


Starboy

by wordslinger



Series: In Fair Verona [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Drug Addiction, Gen, mafia-ish au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: Some people trip over the edge or stumble into their fall from grace. Jellal dove head first with his eyes wide open.*This series is ordered chronologically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starboy will cover the two years of Jellal's life before The Fall of Mercutio begins. This is not a Jerza story. It's the spiral of a young man coming to terms with the lies often told to children.
> 
> Credit for the Spanish dialog throughout the entirety of this series goes to tumblr user [Marya-Nikolaevna](http://marya-nikolaevna.tumblr.com/).

“Jellal!” Her voice rattled in his head loud and metallic. _“Jellal!”_ All the hard consonant edges softened into rolling vowels. His ears tuned the sound like a radio station coming into focus. Her words curled and curved and coiled as if the music staff had been twisted into a knot. _“J...el....l..al,”_ she sang, sinking into his skin through his pores.

His eyes flew open suddenly. The sound of crunching and screeching had ruined his favorite song. Even though the notes were all upside down now and not nearly as beautiful, he still loved the music. But his knees hurt. They felt wet and the shine of her black boots had been dulled by the dusty gravel. The ground shifted uneasily beneath him. Blades of grass so green he wondered if they were real, glinted off the moonlight that waned between ever thickening clouds.

“Jellal!” What used to be music now sounded like cymbals at point blank range. “You fucking idiot,” she screamed. The tips of her midnight hair brushed his cheeks. He smiled at her but she only frowned. _“Jellal!”_

The crunching grew more uniform and a car door slammed. His face felt wet with drops of cold. _Not_ the same wet as his knees. This was harsher. He tried to sit up but the world still spun around him in bright but numb circles. Without warning he was dragged upward and his feet landed flat on the ground. Angry hands pushed and pulled at him.

Specks of yellow swam in the droplets that clung to the other side of the window glass. His arm throbbed now. His knees stung. And his head hummed with a dizzy nausea. Jellal's eyes fluttered open and shut.

 _“Don't let him drift!”_ a voice barked. Drifting sounded nice but a sharp jab to his sloshing middle stopped the process. Someone jerked at his shoulder and his cheek missed the chilled window the second he was pulled away.

Her black hair smelled of dahlias. _This_ he finally recognized. _Ultear._ Her fingernails dug into the crook of the arm that hurt and her thumb drew circles around an area that especially burned. His head fell from her shoulder to her lap and he reached for her hair.

“You're so stupid, Jellal,” she whispered as she slapped his hand away. A drop of something warm fell to his cheek. “How could you? Why didn't you call me?”

He couldn't hear the music anymore.

* * *

His eyes felt like sandpaper. The room was too bright even though the only light came from a bedside lamp. When he sat up he felt bile rising in his throat but swallowed back the impulse to vomit. Jellal felt her glare before he saw her and when his eyes focused, he wanted to shrivel and disappear.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” she said in a dangerously low voice.

“Ultear –”

“Shut up. You don't get to talk first.” Her hair maintained a high gloss even in the dim light and her lips were set in a line. “I found you with a fucking needle in your arm. Do you remember?” Jellal sighed and fell back against her pillows. The change in elevation was too quick. His head spun.

“Where's my car?” His voice came out rougher than he expected. It hurt. “My mom will kill me if –”

“You almost killed _yourself._ I'm pretty sure she'd be more upset about that than the car.” Jellal squeezed his eyes shut. He _did_ remember the needle. He remembered the complete silence of his thoughts and the swell of music. It was the most beautiful moment of his life.

And the most terrifying.

Now, mostly sober, he could hear all the better parts of him screaming. The scared whisper in his head that counted every heartbeat and checked to make sure he was still himself. He could feel the creep and crawl of his skin that he'd drowned out enough to allow himself to be touched by people he couldn't pick out of a crowd. Every protest he'd ignored came rushing back.

He never wanted any of it again.

He wanted more _right now._

“Why did you do it, Jellal?” Ultear's voice cut through the noise in his head. The fight replayed in his head in flashes just as it had before he'd depressed the plunger on the syringe. Or had someone else done that? How could he have let someone else – _“Jellal.”_

“He called me _his,”_ he whispered reaching over to poke at the now invisible mark in the bend of his arm. “He said I'd been branded and claimed.” Jellal shrugged with a nonchalance he didn't feel. “I figured that if he sees me as property, I'd just go ahead and ruin it.”

“You're a person, Jellal. You _know_ this. You only belong to yourself. Names don't mean shit.” Her voice was irritated but he heard the sadness. Jellal's fingers left his arm and found the spot on his face he always thought he should be able to _feel_ but couldn't.

“Ultear,” he rasped. “I can't do this anymore.” Jellal sat up again and his body felt like a sack of bricks. His breaths came slow and heavy. “I don't want to be ruined.”

“Then don't be. I –” Quicker than he could truly see, Ultear reached up to her face and spun around to dig in her desk drawers. She opened a baggie and fished out three pills. “Here. Take these. Sleep off the come down. You can't go cold turkey but I'll help you get there.”

Jellal held out his hand and swallowed them dry. He didn't think he could even stomach water.

“I have to get to school. You stay.”

“But –”

“My mom's on a double. She won't even be home until tomorrow.”

“What's tomorrow?” Whatever she'd given him was already kicking his ass. He swayed and clutched his forehead with one hand.

“Tuesday. I'll call your mom but you can handle Laxus. Ask _him_ about your car.”

“Laxus?”

“Yes, you fuck up. I had to call him last night because I couldn't drag your heavy ass any further than the front yard of that trash house I found you in.” Ultear's face blurred and Jellal fell back into the bed. “Jesus, you're a mess. That stuff I gave you just now is weak compared to what you're used to. When did you eat last?” He couldn't form words. Even his lips felt heavy. “Never mind.”

The yellow pool of light disappeared and he vaguely remembered Ultear's voice telling him to drink the water she'd left. Her bedroom fell silent – except for his head.

 _Pills._ He hated pills. They weren't as good. Jellal's thoughts spun in circles until they landed on something powder blue and a golden smile. His chest warmed with the memory.

 _“I saw it and thought of you,”_ the voice that used to chase away his nightmares said softly. _“Happy birthday, little starboy.”_


	2. Chapter 2

_Rewind One Year and Three Months..._

* * *

_September_

* * *

When he opened the box, the gift didn't make sense. He stared at the ring containing only one key in confusion. Jellal glanced up at his family and smiled awkwardly.

“Did you... buy me my own house?” he asked. Lucy snorted. Layla hid her giggles in Anna's shoulder. Jellal's eyes swept the room and landed on Jude and his father on the other side of the patio glass. They were arguing again.

“Try a smaller scale,” Lucy offered helpfully. Jellal shook his head and finally met his mother's gaze. She smiled and nodded over her shoulder.

“Maybe the key is a little obtuse.” Anna headed for the garage and he followed with Layla and Lucy on his heels. She swung the door open and tapped a button. As the garage slowly filled with sunlight, Jellal's eyes widened. A powder blue convertible sat in the furthest space from the door. “It's not a new model and I had to get some things done, which is why the key looks so generic.”

“Mom,” he whispered in shock. “This is...”

“I saw it and thought of you. Happy birthday, little starboy. Do you like it?” She was smiling anxiously when he finally looked over at her.

“I love it! But –” Jellal paused mid-step toward the car. “I don't think I can drive at fifteen.” His excitement waned but Layla cleared her throat behind him.

“Actually,” she said knowledgeably. “You're old enough to fall under parent-taught learning. As long as your mom is in the car with you, it's fine.” Jellal turned to Anna and couldn't manage more than a whisper.

“Really?” He paused again and his eyes fell to the key in his palm. “Is dad okay with this?”

“This is _my_ gift, Jellal,” Anna said softly. “He will _learn_ to be okay with it.”

“Can we go _now?”_ It wasn't his intention to be so overeager but his excitement was past the point of moderation. Anna held out her hand for the key.

“Of course! But I think you should let me handle the car until we get to a parking lot. I'd hate for you to have a little scrape in the garage.”

Jellal passed over the silver key and slid into the front passenger seat. The interior was a charcoal grey leather and everything looked brand new. Anna pressed a button on the dash and the hard top roof collapsed on itself into a compartment behind the back seat. She smiled at him as they backed out of the garage. Jellal didn't think the sun had ever been brighter.

* * *

He shut the patio door behind him as quietly as possible and crossed the still-warm concrete. His bare feet were almost silent. The sun had long set and the garden was illuminated only by the rows of solar lights in the flower beds. Jellal passed the pool, the gazebo, and the cluster of lilac bushes. Only the moonlight greeted him in the center of the stone benches and Jellal was grateful for the shadows and solitude.

Before he took a seat in the circle, he pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He'd never smoked at home before and the thrill of it suited his mood. Of course his mother would hate it but it wasn't her he meant to disrespect. Jellal sucked in a lungful of smoke and stretched out in the grass. Fourteen really _was_ too young to be dancing with ugly habits but he wasn't fourteen anymore, was he? If he was old enough for his father to treat him like a trophy, then he was old enough to smudge the polish.

Smoke curled from his lips and into the space between him and the moon. He didn't want the last moments of his birthday to sour the whole day but they did anyway. His father had a special skill for it.

_“So is everyone against me now?”_ The tone of his words had etched themselves in Jellal's memory perfectly. He'd heard them loud and clear from the kitchen. _“Does no one think to ask what I want?”_

_“He's fifteen. Would you rather him keep dodging the drivers or give him the tools to drive himself? You can't possibly have a problem with it.”_

_“I have a problem with my wife putting my son behind the wheel of a car without even consulting me!_ _Así se manejan en tu familia!_ _”_

_“Is this about me or Jude? Don't project. It's not fair.”_

_“Nada de esto es justo!”_ Anna had spoken too quietly for him to hear but his father kept on. _“Do you think I like being reminded that I'm an outsider in both business and family? I do the hard work, Anna, I do the things that keep us afloat. Jellal is my son! He is marked as a Fernandes and I demand a say!”_

Jellal had left the plate of leftover cake in the refrigerator at that and escaped out the patio door. Now that he was completely alone, he wanted his thoughts to catapult up into the stars. They didn't. Instead, he fixated on his father's words. Acnologia had always treated him like a card. Something to throw on the table. Something to _keep_ him at the table. He'd taken a long time to truly see the possession in everything he did but once he'd seen it there was no going back. It screamed at him – the mark on his face most of all. The weight of invisible expectations sometimes felt like they might push him through the crust of the earth.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and Jellal sighed. He flicked the dead cigarette into the grass and fished the phone out of his shorts. Ultear's name flashed across his screen and Jellal did not accept or decline. She'd been scaring up more and more trouble lately. Ultear had always been trouble, of course, she reveled in chaos – but he wasn't in the mood for a loud party and whatever came along with it. Jellal did not care to be part of her _tour de destruction._ She didn't need him to piss off her mother, she could do that all on her own.

He stuffed the phone and his pack of cigarettes back into his pocket and rose from the grass. The thought crossed his mind to locate the butt and dispose of it properly but he opted not to bother. It was a spoiled, selfish thing to do but it was his birthday and Jellal couldn't possibly care less.

* * *

To his delight, the access door was unlocked again. He'd only recently discovered the small section of roof surrounded by chain link. The air conditioning units and their loud whirring didn't bother him. Jellal only needed a place to privately fill his lungs with poison and get on with his day.

The view of Magnolia was of a grand scale. On a clear day, he could see the bay sparkling in the distance. His reverie was interrupted by the clang of the door. Laxus Dreyar didn't care as much about making noise as he did.

“Is this going to be your thing now?” Laxus growled, snatching his pack of cigarettes from the ledge.

“I –” Jellal's words tangled in his throat when he turned to Laxus. _“Wow!_ What the fuck happened to your face?”

“None of your business.” He tried to scowl but could only manage a crooked wince. The brand new, and _angry_ scar snaked over his right eye and down his cheek. It was puffy but looked like it had been properly treated.

“Damn, buddy, if you wanted to look like me, you could've just said. You didn't have to carve a lightning bolt on your face.”

“Fuck off,” Laxus muttered. “I didn't carve it.” Jellal had a last look at the jagged scar and turned his eyes back to the horizon. He understood what it was like to have people stare curiously at his face.

“How soon until they stick a dragon on you?” he asked in a low voice just above the air conditioning units. Laxus didn't answer right away and Jellal took that as confirmation. His friend had been flirting with the edges of the Dragon Slayers for weeks. The fact that he'd finally made it into the Thursday ring, meant he'd earned the attention of the right people.

“Whenever I want.”

“And your grandpa?” Jellal's eyes flit back to Laxus, who shrugged.

“He didn't say anything but it's not like he _can._ He can't say shit to me.” Laxus drew harshly on his cigarette and inspected the burning cherry. “If he thinks I haven't seen that fucking mess of a dragon on his goon's shoulder, he's mistaken. Gildarts Clive can tattoo all the _Rosa Cornelia_ he wants over it but a dragon is a dragon.”

“Really? Damn.”

“Yeah, I don't know what his story is and I don't care. I do what I want.”

“So what you want is a fucked up face, then?” Jellal dropped his cigarette butt and squashed it with the toe of his shoe.

“It _won't_ happen again.” Suddenly Laxus's face was sharp. His grin crinkled the scar in what looked like a painful way. “I was born for this. The rush was intense.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Jellal muttered. He wanted a rush. He wanted something of his own. A _channel._ Somewhere to put all the boiling mess inside of him. Jellal turned and made for the door.

“Hey,” Laxus barked from behind him. Jellal glanced back over his shoulder. “Happy late birthday.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Thanks.”

* * *

Ultear's eyes prodded him all throughout lunch but she didn't say anything until Erik and Sorano were gone.

“Why did you ignore me last night?” she asked bluntly. “I know you were up.”

“Because I wasn't feeling it.”

“Bad day? Too much family time?”

“Not family, really. Just my dad. It wasn't a bad day.”

“No?”

“Nope, my mom got me a car.” Ultear's eyebrows rose to mischievous points.

“A car sounds like fun. Do you even know how to drive?”

“I'm learning. The faster I can get my license, the faster I can be rid of the drivers my parents insist escort me everywhere.”

“You'll get it.” Ultear gathered her lunch trash and tossed everything before leaning across the table. “There's a party tonight on the west side. Come out with me.”

“I don't think so.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I make the effort when I already know what'll happen? You'll get fucked up and say all the shit in person you'd normally be texting me.” Jellal shrugged. “It's not fun.”

“You're miserable.”

“I'm not. I'm _fine._ ” Ultear sighed loudly in frustration.

“Do what you want, then. Let me know when you're sick of hiding out in your room.” She left him at the picnic table and strode across the courtyard, her midnight hair catching the rays of afternoon sun.

* * *

The driver left him at the front of the house and then disappeared into whatever alternate universe they existed in while not carting him to school and back. Once the black car was out of sight, Jellal took a hard right and circled around the side of the main house to the back garden for a smoke. He'd decided he liked the thrill of doing something _wrong_. The sound of voices caught his ear and he veered further into the greenery.

“Not _here,”_ an angry voice he thought might've been his Uncle Jude's hissed. “How dare you come here!” There was a soft laugh and the sound of something crinkling. Jellal turned his head to better hear.

“Trash can pay the bills sometimes, Heartfilia. You should know that by now. It's been long enough.”

“I don't need to be told about _family business_ by someone like _you!_ ”

“My apologies.” Jellal didn't think the man was actually very sorry. His voice carried a light humor. “But facts are facts.”

“There should always be a solid line between what _you_ do and what _I_ do, Igneel. Understand _that_ fact. _Love and Lucky_ is –”

“I'm a big fan of lines, Heartfilia,” the man Jude had called Igneel – Jellal knew him mostly by reputation and his annual showing for Midnight Mass on Christmas. Despite being a known gang leader, he never missed a single year. “I have them drawn all over my property.”

_“And_ your son,” Jude muttered almost too low for Jellal to catch.

“Your family isn't above that, either, or don't you count your brother in law and his son as family?”

“You got what you came for,” Jude snapped. “Get out.”

“Indeed, I did. If you don't want to see me here again, have a chat with Acnologia about keeping his appointments.” Jellal heard footsteps falling over the grass and he backed up against the lilac bushes. His heart raced as he watched Igneel walk by – entirely too close. The man stuffed his hands into his pockets but when he pulled them out a small plastic bag fell to the grass. Igneel stopped and knelt down to retrieve it. Before he hid it away again, Jellal caught a flash of red against white. He blinked and both Igneel and Jude were gone.

* * *

_"Jellal,”_ the voice stopped him in his tracks. _This_ was why he didn't like wandering the far wing of the house. Too close to the offices, too close to all the things that made the cogs of his family grind together uncomfortably. He should've just come through the front door. None of his afternoon detours had ended wall so far. Jellal spun around to face his father who leaned casually against Jude's office door frame. “A moment of your time?”

Acnologia's voice hadn't always rubbed him the wrong way. When Jellal was small he'd lived for the stories his father told of Alvarez and his childhood there. The code switching into his native language and the accent he still carried smeared a thick layer of fantasy over everything. Jellal would close his eyes and imagine the wind swaying branches of bright pink oleander under a warm sun. Despite his bitterness, he didn't want to believe all the yarns Acnologia had spun were an attempt to romanticize outdated customs that would later be tattooed onto his face. Older, and slightly more aware, now, Jellal knew oleander to be poisonous.

“What is it?” he asked, hiding his hands in his pockets. Acnologia jerked his chin toward the open door and disappeared inside the office. When Jellal joined his father, he realized Jude wasn't present. “Where's Uncle Jude?” Acnologia laughed softly and fell into the leather chair that wasn't his.

“He's out. I wanted to talk to you about your birthday present.” Jellal's heart stuttered.

“The car?”

“The car, yes. Has your mother been a compatible teacher for you? We can hire someone if you'd prefer.”

“Mom's fine,” Jellal hedged. He didn't want to give his father any reason to restrict access. “She said she'd take me out whenever I wanted.”

“Good.” Acnologia nodded but the way his elbows rested on the arms of the chair and the steeple of his fingers implied the conversation wasn't over.

“Was there something else?” Jellal didn't feel comfortable in Jude's office after what he'd overheard earlier. His uncle hadn't ever displayed any kind of disapproval toward him personally but Jellal didn't want to press the envelope – especially not when he and Acnologia openly bickered now.

“I know the lure of a pretty blue convertible is strong, _hijo mio_ , but I can't protect you when you're in it. Your mother meant well, but the gift is a dangerous one.” Acnologia's eyes pierced his but Jellal didn't flinch or look away. His fists balled in his pockets as his father stood. “Be careful. I haven't sheltered you within out gates as they have done with Lucy.” Acnologia crossed the room and brushed past Jellal's shoulder pausing only for a moment. “I wanted you to see what would be yours one day when you take my place. Don't ever forget who you are.” His voice lowered. “Don't forget who you belong to.”

Jellal didn't watch him go but he knew the instant he was alone. The office suddenly made him feel claustrophobic. He couldn't breathe and the floor tilted. Jellal spun on his heel to leave but his eye snagged on something white... and _red._ The opposite wall was lined with bookshelves and on one of the many tea tables a book that didn't look quite right sat open. Jellal's head screamed at him to leave it alone – to just get the fuck out of there – but his curiosity lorded.

He crossed the room and his fingertips brushed over a compartment cut into false pages. Inside were a handful of little bags. They were filled with white powder and stamped with a red ouroboros dragon. Something about the dragon that would eat its own tail sang to him. Jellal blinked several times before picking up one of the bags. He frowned but couldn't quite put it back.

_“Trash can pay the bills sometimes, Heartfilia.”_ Igneel's words from earlier ricocheted in his mind loudly and painfully. _Trash._ White powder. Jellal squeezed his hand around the bag and slammed the book shut with his other. _This_ was his father's work. _This_ was the wedge between him and Jude.

_This_ was keeping _Love and Lucky_ afloat.

Acnologia had marked his face and chained him to a kingdom he hadn't ever fucking wanted. He _couldn't_ be this. What would Lucy think of him if she knew his father was building an empire on drugs? Jellal's anger rose biliously in his throat. He wanted to leave and pretend he'd never seen Igneel _or_ this damning book. He wanted to demand answers from his father.

He wanted a _lot_ of things he knew he'd never get.

With the bag still clenched in his palm, he stalked from the office all the way to his bedroom. Jellal pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text to Ultear.

_'Come get me.'_

* * *

He felt it first on the roof of his mouth and the sensation quickly trickled into the back of his throat. Jellal tried to stand but Ultear grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Sit,” she commanded with an amused laugh. “We're not done.” The yard wasn't pretty but the moonlight blurred the scene into something beautiful. The patio table had a glass top with a textured underside. Jellal stared at the remnants of white lines crossing over a web of circles on the bottom of the glass. Inside, the party raged. He could feel the base of the music thrumming. Ultear took his hand and pressed the glass tube into his palm. “Where's that stuff you had before?”

“Stuff?” He was distracted again. The patio wasn't interesting anymore. Jellal wanted to bathe in the music.

“The stuff you had in the car.” Ultear's hands patted around his waist and he raised his arms in confusion. Her fingers dipped into his pocket and pulled out the little bag stamped with a red dragon. _That_ dragon. The red one that ate its own tail.

“Oh shit, for real?” Ultear's friend – were they friends? – reached out to snatch the bag from between her fingers but she was too quick.

“Calm the fuck down Zancrow. Jellal needs to chase his own dragon.” Ultear busied herself with the powder and Jellal felt Zancrow's eyes on him. Jealousy really _was_ green, he decided.

“I bet you can get this stuff anytime you want,” he muttered. Jellal sucked in a breath that felt like ten thousand breaths. He could _taste_ the music now.

“He could for the right price,” Ultear offered in a sickeningly sweet voice. Zancrow rolled his eyes and fell backwards against the rotting plastic supports of his lawn chair.

“If I could afford the red dragon, I wouldn't be out here cutting this junk now would I? And I'm not about to pay a drug prince's markup.” He paused and his mouth stretched into a smirk Jellal didn't like. “ _Or_ line the pockets of a lady cop's daughter.”

“You'd rather deal with the dragon himself?” Ultear laughed off Zancrow's muttered response. The words swam in Jellal's head. _All_ of it was junk, somewhere deep inside the cavern of his skull, he knew that. Ultear poked his arm and pointed to the fresh set of neat white lines. These were brighter than the last. He leaned down and burned everything out with a harsh inhale.

By the time he stood, the table was clean.

* * *

Music vibrated around him and Jellal thought his heart might explode. He had no room for thoughts or ideas – he lived and died by the pulse of the room. The spin of it sent him flying. He whirled around and everything stopped on a pink and silver smile. She gazed up at him with bright blue eyes and he could not look away.

Her neck smelled like peach vodka. When she pressed into him, his tongue flicked out and he realized she tasted like it too. She absorbed him into her orbit and they moved like two halves. The palms of his hands found her hips and he didn't stop her from trapping him against her. There was a hallway and a door and a mattress with too many coils.

The girl's hair sparkled like diamonds and she giggled when he touched it. He'd never felt more coordinated in his life – despite not knowing the dance very well. When he pushed off her and fell onto his back the coils screamed at him. No, not the coils, it was _him._ He'd forgotten something. The room faded before he could puzzle it out.

* * *

_“Jellal!”_ Ultear's voice shook him awake. She tugged on his belt loop.

“What?” His mouth felt like sand. _Full_ of sand.

“You disappeared! Why are you back here? Where's your shirt?” She shifted from his line of vision and he sat up slowly. The edge of his open zipper cut into his hip. “Here.” Ultear tossed him his t-shirt.

“I feel like shit,” he muttered, pulling on the shirt.

“Zancrow has garbage stuff. Your bag was better but the come down is never nice.” She leaned against a standing dresser and assessed him with a sharp eye. “Did you like it?”

“I guess.” Jellal shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. It felt stiff and sticky. He wanted a shower. All the things he'd lost while high were slowly trickling back. Jellal sighed and wished he was gone again. He felt around in his pocket for his cigarettes but they were gone. Ultear quirked an eyebrow and grinned.

“Your girlfriend for the evening probably took them. I hope you used a condom.” Ultear's words rattled in his ears. Of all the things he could've forgotten! “I've got more cigarettes in the car, let's go.”

“What time is it?” Jellal stood and zipped his pants up.

“Almost three.” Ultear led him back through the house and Jellal's eyes did nothing but flit impatiently. He didn't want to be here anymore. The exciting shine had worn off.

Ultear's glanced at him more than once on the way back to their side of town. He didn't return her gaze.

“What's wrong with you?” She turned into the cluster of streets that were considered _Love and Lucky –_ Heartfilia – territory. “Did you hate it?”

_Did he?_ Did he hate the way his head spun in all the right, _wrong,_ directions? Jellal took the last drag off the cigarette Ultear had given him and let it blow from between his fingers and out the window. He wasn't even sorry the silver girl with the pink smile and blue eyes had stolen his pack.

“No.” Ultear rolled to a stop just outside the main gates. Jellal pushed open the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “I can get more this weekend.”

* * *

The face of his phone showed the time to be just after noon when he rolled out of bed. His mouth still felt dry and his body itched. Even though he'd showered the night before, Jellal took another before considering anything else. He brushed his teeth twice before pulling a clean pair of pants and t-shirt from the closet.

Briefly, Jellal considered crawling back in bed before Ultear's text tone rang in his ears. While in the bathroom he'd missed five messages.

_'Wake up, Sunshine! Wanna get lunch?'_

_'No. I want to go back to bed.'_

_'You're such a grouch. Come out with me again tonight.'_

_'Maybe.'_ Jellal's thumb hovered over the screen. Even though he'd woken up with a headache and a mouth that tasted like the parking lot of a public beach... he wanted _more._ He slid his phone into his pocket and vacated his bedroom.

* * *

The house was quiet – the kind of quiet that usually means solitude. Jellal padded barefoot down to the kitchen. The first voice he heard was Lucy's and then that of her weekend tutor. Levy was the daughter of one of _Love and Lucky's_ smaller vendors. She spent three hours every other Saturday prepping Lucy on study habits. On this particular day, though, Jellal didn't think they were discussing anything related to academics. The both of them stifled low giggles when he appeared in the archway.

“Jellal!” Lucy's face flushed pink and she snatched a pen from the table top awkwardly. “We were just – uh –”

“Studying?” he asked dryly. Levy fidgeted and Jellal felt guilty. “Where's everybody else?” He turned his attention away from them and pulled three bottles of water from the pantry. The first one was empty before Lucy could get a sentence out. She openly stared at him with raised eyebrows when he crushed the plastic bottle.

“You're kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Jellal opened the second bottle and sucked half of it down. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been so thirsty.

“The regatta?” Lucy continued to stare at him as her expression turned to a frown. “They're all at Akane Resort until Sunday night. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Jellal ran a hand through his hair and billowed a sigh before finishing off the second bottle. Of course he remembered the regatta. His mother and Layla had been going on about it for weeks. He spun around, grabbed another water bottle, and made to leave the kitchen. “Hey,” he called over his shoulder as an afterthought. “I'm going out tonight.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, I'll be back but probably not until late.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Will you be okay alone? The gate security isn't going anywhere and I'll have my phone on me.”

“I'm not worried about _me,_ Jellal.” She chewed on her lip. “You're not taking the convertible are you?”

“Of course not. I'd like to live to see my next birthday. I'll check in before I leave.” Jellal left Lucy and Levy to their whispers and returned to his room. He tossed the water bottles on his bed and ran his hands through his hair again. And again. It was becoming a habit.

Should he just march on down to the back wing of the house and into Jude's office? Did that book with the false pages even belong to Jude? After the conversation he'd witnessed between his uncle and Igneel, he didn't think bags of white powder would just be... _laying around._ As unsure as Jellal was about his Uncle Jude, he knew his father. Acnologia was arrogant and bitter. He would absolutely keep white powder around.

The Heartfilia personal house staff usually didn't come in on weekends. A chef would show up on Sunday afternoon to prepare dinner but that was it. Jellal found the hallways of the back wing silent. He passed by Jude's office with a racing heart and by the time he made it to his father's at the end of the hall, he couldn't breathe naturally. The palms of his hands sweat and he tugged on his hair again. His fingers tingled before he chastised himself for being a baby and grabbed the door knob.

Acnologia's office was smaller than Jude's but no less plush. Everything was dark wood and velvet. Papers were stacked on every surface and the decanter of bourbon was fuller than Jude's. Jellal hadn't ever seen his father so much as tipsy and he took a small comfort in the knowledge that while he may be a drug dealer, he wasn't a drunk.

The air in the office was on the edge of stale. He didn't think the door had been opened since Friday afternoon. Jellal's eyes scanned the room for the grey book with a gold fore edge. He moved around the perimeter of the office glancing over the stacks and rows of books. At the very back near the window that overlooked a section of the back garden, Jellal found a matching set. He glanced back at the open office door and snatched the first one off the shelf.

Inside was the same type of hideaway filled with little bags stamped with the red ouroboros dragon. Both of the books had bags inside and Jellal hesitated. Did he want just enough for Saturday night? What about Sunday? And the days after? How often would he have the opportunity to stock up?

Jellal's hand froze. _Stock up?_ Was he at a place where he even wanted to _stock up?_ On _cocaine?_ Jellal stepped back from the book and turned to face the window. What the fuck was he doing? He fell into the leather chair and spun around once.

_“Don't ever forget who you are. Don't forget who you belong to.”_

His father's words dug their claws into his mind. Jellal stood and glanced over the hidden compartments of the books. He stuffed ten of the bags into his pocket and rearranged the books the way he'd found them.

On the way back to his room his fingers never strayed from his pocket.

_“Don't forget who you belong to.”_

* * *

When the harbor popped up in conversations at home, the subject usually centered around the flavored liqueurs or bottles of expensive wine _Love and Lucky_ imported from Alvarez. Sometimes Jellal would catch a twitch of Jude's eye or a half-smirk from his father. Outside of home, though, the harbor usually meant one thing: the Dragon Slayers. They were a very old but well executed street gang that commanded the twisted knot of streets and inlets that stretched from the bay itself all the way to the low section of the river that cut through Magnolia. Until Jellal had witnessed Igneel and Jude arguing, he'd never considered the Dragon Slayers as anything other than yet another hand grasping at the neck of the city. That revelation changed the lens through which he saw _everything._ How many hands were there? He didn't know.

Ultear's car wasn't anywhere near as nice as his. It was a plain white, refurbished Crown Vic her mother bought at a police auction on the cheap. Unlike Anna, Ur Milkovich wasn't about to shell out a bunch of cash on a first car for a teenager. Jellal felt pretty sure the only reason Ultear had the car at all – as well as a hardship license – was because her father sat incarcerated for some kind of tax fraud and her mother was a well respected police officer on the upward career climb. As much as she hated the car, Ultear absolutely _loved_ the moment of panic that passed over a face when she pulled up anywhere less than completely above board. The shape of a Crown Vic, and the automatic assumption that a police officer would step out, was a pre-programmed, visceral reaction for a lot of people.

She shifted the car into park and flipped off the headlights. The street – if it could be called a street – was dark and lined with other vehicles. Ultear reached behind Jellal's seat and pulled a makeup bag from the floorboard. He watched her fish out a square mirror and puff a hot breath that fogged the surface. Before he could stop her she snatched the edge of his t-shirt and wiped it clean.

“Hey! What the fu–”

“Stop whining. I'm not snorting anything off _any_ surface where we're going.” She smirked at him. She held out her hand and he pulled a bag from his pocket. “How many of those did you swipe from your dad?” Jellal turned his eyes to the darkness beyond the window.

“Enough.” She didn't press him further and he didn't watch her prep the lines. He didn't actually care.

Ultear held the makeup mirror for him and he held it for her. The night swam around him in thick clumps that smelled alternately of ocean and something rotten. She grabbed his hand and they slipped between two buildings. The sliver of light and rhythmic hum weren't hard to find. Once inside, Jellal let go of his thoughts and fell.

This party was different. The music wasn't the sleazy blast of garage band rock – this was the steady pound of hip hop. He weaved through the crowd and felt every beat sink into his skin. A hand grasped his wrist and he tried to focus. Her lips brushed his ear and he felt her stuff something into his back pocket.

“Just in case. Don't be an idiot.” Ultear's whisper was erased the second her grip went away and she replaced her hand with a cup of something cold. He finished it off and the room warped again. His tongue tasted grassy and his heart pounded in a way that stole his breath.

The lights and music glared at him and he thought he could hear every note, every syllable. Jellal's hand pressed against his chest and then his thighs. He wanted a smoke but he had too many pockets.

His eye caught on something silver. She shouldered through the crowd and smiled. Her lips weren't pink this time but something sparkly. Purple maybe. Her laugh tinkled in his ears.

“You look lost,” she said, her words cutting through the music.

“I can't find my cigarettes.” He felt like he was melting and freezing simultaneously. Her hand settled on his chest and she grinned.

“I think I can help you out with that.” Her eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen. She reached up to poke the cigarette into his mouth and even lit it for him. “I owe you more than that one.”

The silver girl was lithe and her hands slid under the edge of his shirt when the overhead lights blinked in a new pattern. She'd said he was lost and he didn't linger too long on how she quite obviously wasn't. The hallway was dark and her panties were left somewhere in the shadows. He didn't remember the condoms in his back pocket until she sighed against his neck.

Jellal's vision sharpened and he frowned. Her smile was still purple when she kissed his jaw.

“What are you doing here? You stand out.”

“Do I?”

“To me you do.” She released him and slid back down the wall. “Zip up. I need some air.” He obeyed her and shoved away the angry voice in his head. _Condoms you sloppy dumbass! That's basic!_ The silver girl took his hand and pulled him back through the crowd. Jellal let her lead him to another set of doors that opened to a wider street. In the natural moonlight, his head started to clear. She crouched down and sat on the curb. Without thinking, he joined her.

“You're new,” she said quietly. “I've seen your friend around but _you're_ new.”

“I needed to get out.”

“Is it that bad?” She stretched her legs out and her skirt rode high on her thigh. He could see where he'd dug his fingers into her skin.

“I didn't used to think so.” Jellal sighed and finally reached for the right pocket. His cigarettes were safe and sound. He offered the silver girl one but she shook her head. The smoke that filled his lungs and twisted into the humid air felt familiar and soothing compared to the chaotic madness inside. “Nothing wrecks a dream more than finding out you're just someone else's property.”

“I want to be someone's property,” she whispered. “It's better than being invisible.” The silence stretched between them. Jellal flicked his spent cigarette out into the street. He watched the trail of ash darken and disappear.

“What's your name?” he asked on a whim.

“Lis,” she offered plainly. After a moment she stood and offered him a hand. Jellal took it and brushed the dirt from the seat of his pants. Lis didn't bother. She sparkled when he was full of drink and powder but now he could see she was just a girl. “I gotta go. My sister will murder me if she finds out I was here.”

“Right.” Jellal stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt the other plastic bag brush his palm. A thought began to emerge like a soap bubble from a ring. “Maybe in a minute though?” He pulled the bag from his pocket far enough for her to see the edge. Her eyes lit up and her purple lips split in a grin.

“Where's your friend's cop car?” Jellal glanced up and down the street and recognized the corner at the end of the building. He jerked his chin over his shoulder and she followed.

* * *

The makeup mirror slid over the front set of seats once it was clean. Lis pushed him to his back and at the last second he remembered the foil packets in his back pocket. She didn't steal from him this time but she may as well have for all of Ultear's rage.

* * *

Jellal groaned and reached for his screeching phone. He never could remember to put it on vibrate at night. His fingers brushed the glass face just before knocking it off the side table. With a pounding skull and lingering dizziness, Jellal swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled himself into a sitting position.

“Okay, okay,” he rasped. Ultear's name flashed across the screen and Jellal finally leaned down to take the call. He tapped the green button and fell backwards onto the mattress. “I'm up, I'm up. What is it?”

“My mom busted me last night.”

“That sucks for you,” he said, dropping the phone to his chest and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“I can't have my car back until tomorrow and only for school.” Ultear's tone was pouty. If he didn't feel on the verge of death, he'd have laughed.

“I feel like shit anyway. I'm not leaving the house today.” Her laugh raked over his ears. “It's not funny.”

“I'm sorry. Maybe absinth isn't for you.”

“Is that what that shit in the cup was? It tasted like grass. Like actual grass from the yard.”

“For a rich kid, you're so uncultured. Absinth has an herbal flavor.”

“If that's what you need to tell yourself to enjoy it.”

“Anyway, tonight's a no-go. I'm stuck here. Unless...” she trailed off and Jellal braced himself for whatever would come out of her mouth next. “You could come get me and we'd just take _your_ car.”

“No way,” he said smoothly, sitting back up. “I would never see the convertible again if I got caught. I haven't even gotten to drive it alone yet.” Ultear sighed heavily.

“I'll see you at school tomorrow, then. What time does your family get home?”

“I don't know.” Jellal stood and peeked between the curtains of his window. From this angle he could only see the side driveway and part of the back garden. “Probably before dinner. Two of the kitchen staff are here already. What time is it?”

“Just after one.”

“Goddamn. Alright, I need to shower and clean myself up. My parents will have a shit fit if I look like I had too much fun this weekend.”

“Bye.” Ultear had always been one for ending calls abruptly. He didn't take it personally.

Jellal tossed his phone back to the bed and left his dirty jeans in the hamper before stepping under the cold shower spray. He thought hot water might put him back to sleep. Now that his mind was free of lingering cobwebs he was disgusted with himself for not showering the night before. Two rounds with Lis, the silver girl, and... yeah, he'd be stripping his bed too.

After dressing, he escorted the dirty sheets to the laundry room. Someone else would wash them but clean sheets were easy to find. The house chef gave him the side eye when he snatched a cup of applesauce from the pantry and two granola bars. He excused himself from the busy kitchen to the patio table where Lucy sat with a book.

“Look who's back from the dead,” she muttered, turning a page.

“I overslept.” Jellal peeled the foil seal back from the cup of applesauce and realized he'd forgotten a spoon. Lucy pursed her lips in disgust when he sucked it down like a thick drink.

“What's with you?”

“Nothing. I'm just tired.” He set aside the empty cup and polished off one of the granola bars in three bites.

“You're acting like you haven't eaten in a week.” She paused and set aside the book. “Did you even eat yesterday? The way you killed those bottles of water was impressive.” Jellal chewed slower – now more self conscious.

“When the adults aren't here to orchestrate meals, I just forget, I guess.” He shrugged and stuffed both of the wrappers into the empty applesauce cup.

“Whatever you say.” Lucy reopened her book and went back to her reading. Jellal stood and brushed the crumbs from his shirt.

“I'll be in my room. I've got some school stuff.” The lie slid off his tongue easily and Lucy didn't notice. On his way back up to his room he pulled a fresh set of sheets from the linen closet in the laundry room. His had always been a deep black. Though the Heartfilia house had a kitchen and housekeeping staff, Jellal wasn't completely inept. If necessary he could handle his own laundry and linens.

He made quick work of his bed before stretching out across it with a sigh. The house was still mostly quiet and it would be at least another four hours before the bulk of his family returned. Jellal's mind began to wander to the shoebox he'd stuffed behind a stack of sweaters in his closet – the one filled with little plastic bags.

Jellal rose from the bed and as he approached the closet, his expression fell into a scowl. The powder called to him and he _hated_ it.

_But he also loved it._

He loved the way he soared above everything that bothered, everything that _hurt._ When he was high he didn't have to think about anything. Not his father's grooming, not the obvious discord between his Uncle Jude and Acnologia, not the way his Aunt Layla smiled like none of it was happening, not the way his mother was obviously aware but chose to look away, not the way Lucy seemed to be in a world of her own making. And _most of all_ he didn't have to remember the mark on his face that tied him to all of it. His father seemed fond of marks, so Jellal would brand himself with the other and see how he liked it.

The white powder and red stamp stood out against the black of the shoebox. Jellal plucked one of the bags from the pile and held it in his hand thoughtfully. Did he really need Ultear to achieve his goal? She'd showed him the basics of how to handle the stuff. In theory, he could get high on his own.

Jellal made up his mind in an instant and snatched a pen from his desk on the way to the bathroom. The countertops were dark marble and he figured the smooth surface would work fine. When he emptied the bag it didn't look the same as when Ultear formed the thin lines. This stuff was clumpy. Jellal dug around in his memories and remembered her blade. Ultear had a set of safety razor blades in her glove compartment.

He felt like an idiot. Jellal ran his hands over his face and turned to leave the bathroom. His eye caught on the shelf above his books lined with three dimensional puzzles and paper models. The intricate planes and castles had always been his favorite. He hadn't bothered with any of them since his grandmother died. Jellal turned sharply toward his desk and began to root through the drawers. His heart skipped a beat when he found the tube of fresh x-acto knife blades.

Back in the bathroom he emptied the tube and picked the one with the fattest grip. Even with a good hold, his movements were awkward and his fingers were sweaty with anticipation. The blade slipped. A drop of blood welled from the cut but he wasn't deterred. Jellal worked the white clump into a smooth powder. It took him longer than expected but his blade wasn't ideal. His lines were sloppy but serviceable. He dismantled the pen from his desk and the tubular body fit nicely in his hand.

The first hit was good. The second was even better. The third... he could only grin and spin around out of the bathroom. His room tilted around him. Jellal's hand shot out to steady himself against the desk but he missed and wound up on the floor. He rolled to his back and the stars he and his grandmother had painted on the ceiling when he was six began to swirl and dance. The thin black lines connecting the points of every constellation moved fluidly. Jellal blinked and they were back to stationary swipes of paint.

He had no time to focus on the oddity of it because his heart rate picked up and he hopped to his feet. All of the little things about his bedroom that bugged him suddenly needled. Jellal grabbed a trash bag from under his bathroom sink and began to yank all the puzzles and models from his bookshelves. He stuffed the delicate paper molds into the bag. Next, he scanned the spine covers of all his books. Anything that looked too young or too outdated or simply too colorful, he pulled off the shelf and stuffed into the bag.

When the first bag was full, he filled a second with all his old school workbooks and coloring books. Next came the boxes of old colored pencils and crayons and strips of children's watercolors. All of the things that used to occupy his mind when he was a child were ruined for him now. Why did his dad even bother to let him have these things? Such intricate little hobbies. _Why?_ Why fill his head with granted wishes and dreams and painted stars when his destiny was always going to lead him into the shadows?

Jellal's head spun. He threw the bag aside and fell backwards into his bed. His hands covered his face and he tried to catch his breath. When he sat up again he saw his phone was still laying up near the pillows. The time showed almost an hour had passed since he'd first emptied the bag on the bathroom counter. He sucked in several deep breaths and closed his eyes again.

The room had returned to normal when he had another look. Normal – _except he'd torn everything apart._ His bookshelves were half empty and all the hours he'd spent on the puzzles and models were a waste. It occurred to him that books shouldn't ever be thrown away. All of this junk should be dug through and separated into garbage and donations. Jellal's mouth felt sticky. He pulled another bottle from his new stash and downed all of it within seconds.

He didn't think it wise to toss the empty bag with the ouroboros dragon into the bathroom garbage. Those needed to be disposed of more carefully. Jellal's head clogged with thoughts. He needed to clean his room. He needed to do something about the mess in the bathroom. He _needed_ to get a hold of himself.

Instead of any of that, he grabbed another little bag from the box and rushed through the steps again. This time he didn't cut his finger. This time he knew how to work the powder. _This time_ he _focused._

When Jellal came back to himself he had two tidy piles of stuff he didn't want to look at anymore. The bathroom was spotless. He was _exhausted._ Two bottles of water later, he flopped back into his bed and closed his eyes.

* * *

Jellal fought sleep all throughout dinner. He tried to keep up with the conversation but checked out after the main course. Dessert was a joke. His pie wound up a pulverized mess and he excused himself as soon as he could get away with it. His head ticked off the steps between him and his bed and Jellal didn't hear his mother behind him or notice her presence at all until her hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey, Jellal.” Her grip was firm and he nearly lost his balance spinning around to face her. Anna's eyes were wide with concern. “Are you okay? Are you sick?” She reached up to touch his forehead but he dodged. “I felt like something was wrong all weekend.”

“No, mom, I'm fine.” He sighed and felt heavier with each passing second. “I'm just really tired.”

“Are you sure? You don't look well. Do you need to stay home from school tomorrow?” The thought of being stuck in the house all day with his father roaming the halls made Jellal's eye twitch.

“I swear I'm fine. I'm sorry about dinner, okay? I'm just gonna go to bed.” He tried to smile but Anna only pursed her lips and twisted her hands together.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, just go to bed, sweetie. If you need anything, though, please just let me know.” Anna smirked. “I'll even accept a text message just this once.”

“Thanks mom. I'll be fine.” Jellal clenched his jaw and headed for the stairs. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he reached the top landing. Acnologia stood at the mouth of the hallway with his hands in his pockets. His eyes raked over Jellal and it was all he could do not to cringe and shrink away. The non-verbal assault rang in his ears.

“You shouldn't worry your mother so much, _hijo mio.”_ Acnologia pushed off the wall and brushed by. “She has enough. Sleep well.”

By the time Jellal finally made it back to his room, he drew several shaking breaths but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He tried to brush his teeth but did a poor job. When his eyes caught on his reflection in the bathroom mirror he scowled. The Fernandes mark stood out more than anything else. One day he'd wake up and it will have consumed him.

* * *

The conversation made as much sense as a murder of ravens perched on a wire squawking at one another. Ultear was as polished as she always was – of course he doubted she'd snorted a gram of cocaine alone in her bedroom on Sunday afternoon.

“Jellal?” Sorano's voice snagged his attention. “Are you listening to me?”

“Um –” Jellal floundered and snatched the water bottle off his lunch tray. “Sorry, could you say it again?” She quirked an eyebrow and he could feel Ultear's gaze burning into him.

“I was just saying my sister is transferring here in a few months. She's testing into the same grade as us but I'm _so_ not into tutoring. I was hoping you could help her out?”

“Well –” He cleared his throat but Sorano cut him off.

“She's into all that space shit like you. I'm not asking you to lead her around or anything, maybe just point her in the right direction.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jellal ran his hand through his hair nervously. “I can do that.”

“Thanks. She's been in boarding school for the super smart until now.”

“When is this again?”

“My dad thinks she'll be here before Christmas but that's hilarious. There's no fucking way Yukino would even consider that mid-semester. Probably January.”

“Sure thing.” Jellal had barely gotten the words out when Erik's lunch tray hit the table with a smack. He jumped and sloshed water on his shirt. Erik quirked an eyebrow before narrowing his eyes.

“What's your problem?”

“Nothing,” Jellal muttered. “I didn't get much sleep last night.” He stood and gathered his trash clumsily before dumping it and stalking across the courtyard. Ultear caught up to him quickly.

“What _is_ your problem?” she asked with obnoxious nonchalance.

“I had a rough day yesterday.” Ultear grabbed his arm and he let her spin him around. Her eyes took in the dullness of his face and she frowned.

“You did it alone, didn't you?” she hissed. “Don't do that! _God,_ Jellal, you're messier than I thought.” Her grip on his arm tightened and she pulled him to the line of trees near the stairs that led back into the school building.

“Why can't I do it alone?”

“Because you're already in a spiral. This stuff can be tricky. It fucks with your head.” Her eyes searched his face again. “Listen, that girl you were with –”

“Lis?”

_“Lisanna,”_ Ultear corrected. “She's got more issues than you.” Her eyes glanced around the courtyard quickly. “I found some deeply concerning shit in my car when I cleaned it out last night.”

“Like?” Ultear reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag much like the ones he had at home. This one had a different stamp, though. It was blue and a design he didn't recognize. “What's that?”

“Are you for real?” Ultear snapped. “You're friends with Laxus fucking _Dreyar_ and you don't know what this is?”

“We don't exactly discuss family business, Ultear, what the fuck is that?”

“This is a _Fairy Tail_ stamp, Jellal. _You_ were fucking a girl who buys shit from _Fairy Tail_ in my car! _You!_ ”

_“Fairy Tail_ is a hotel. They affiliate with the independent brewer's guild and other merchants guilds. Why do they...” Jellal trailed off. His mind started connecting dots like the ones painted on his bedroom ceiling.

“The Dreyars have been at this for almost as long as the Dragon Slayers. My mom says they built _Fairy Tail_ on dirty cash. It's one thing for you to shoot the shit with Laxus on the roof where no one can see but you _can't_ just dance around in whatever circles you want.”

Jellal blinked in surprise and then chastised himself for being surprised. He didn't even know how long his own family had been in the drug cartel business, and the possibility of yet another reason why his mother had blanched when he told her he'd made friends with Laxus all those years ago made his stomach turn. Was all of Magnolia rotting from the inside out?

“Get it now?” Ultear demanded. “You have to be careful, Jellal.”

“Right,” he agreed in a breath. _“Careful.”_ The word tumbled from his lips but he didn't mean it. The last thing he wanted to be was careful.

* * *

He found that every day he put between himself and the bad trip he had on Sunday, his chest hurt less. Maybe Ultear was right. Doing it alone defeated the purpose. Jellal's first cigarette of the day eased the tremor in his hand that hadn't truly gone away.

The roof door squealed open and Laxus took a place at his side. He wanted to grill Laxus about his family but bit his tongue. Such an explosion would ruin his friendship and in this realm he didn't have any other peers.

“Do you ever think about what bullshit everything is?” Jellal muttered around a mouth full of smoke.

“Only every day.”

“We're born into a world we didn't ask for and given a name that ties us to even more shit we didn't ask for. I'm sick of it.” Jellal felt Laxus's eyes on him. Laxus had a gaze like a swift right hook.

“Keep your head down. Once you start peeling back the rugs in your house, you can't put them back again.” Laxus finished his smoke and flicked it between the chain links. “Don't sweat the stuff you can't change right now.”

_Right now._ Jellal's ears burned. _Right now._ What a rational concept. The ravens on the wire in his head flapped their wings and black feathers blinded him.

“You coming down?” Laxus's voice sounded a million miles away.

“Yeah, in a minute.” The door clanged shut and Jellal's thoughts turned to the silver girl. Lis wanted not to be invisible. Jellal wanted nothing _but._


	3. Chapter 3

_December_

* * *

Autumn came with a lurch and winter at a crawl. In early December the sky was still trying to decide if it wanted to rain or snow.

“I'm really proud of you, Jellal,” she said from the passenger seat. “You're such a quick learner. I think that come January we can convince your dad to let you get a permit.”

“Really?” Jellal's hands tightened around the steering wheel and he tried to look less excited than he actually was.

“I know it took him a while to come around on the car but you've proven that you can handle it and we've logged enough hours.” She smiled at him. “It might help, though, if you did something about that literature grade. I'm sure your teacher can be reasoned with. Exams are still a week off.”

“I'll see what I can do.” Jellal's stomach dropped. The literature grade probably couldn't be helped. He'd been blowing off required reading all semester because weekends took a lot more out of him than they used to.

The black shoebox in his closet had become a staple of entertainment – that and Lis. Despite Ultear's _extreme_ disapproval he'd continued to hook up with her whenever they were in one another's company which was almost every weekend. To counterbalance this disagreement between them, Jellal had kept his promise to never use alone – _mostly._ Sometimes he locked himself in his bedroom on Sunday afternoons to sneak a line or two and then spend hours wandering the property and surrounding blocks sucking down cigarettes or kicking Laxus's ass on Call of Duty. In the last three months he'd become very good at hiding things from _everyone._

Anna let him drive the convertible home and when the garage door lifted open Jellal's heart skipped a beat. Acnologia stood on the raised walkway that lined the perimeter of the garage. His hip rested against the edge of a stack of plastic storage bins as he scrolled through the phone in the palm of his hand. Jellal hesitated to pull in at all but ultimately swallowed his discomfort. Acnologia didn't slide the phone into his pocket until the car rolled to a stop.

Jellal froze with one hand on the door handle and the other on the key still in the ignition when his father moved to open Anna's door.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, stepping from the car.

“Not at all,” Acnologia said smoothly. “I just thought I'd see for myself how Jellal is coming along with the driving.” He took Anna's place beside Jellal.

“I think you'll find that he's up to par.” Anna smiled at them both before crossing the garage and entering the house.

“Well?” Acnologia asked in the most casual tone Jellal could ever remember hearing from his father. “Shall we? I've mapped out a route on my GPS.”

“Right,” Jellal said under his breath. He backed the car out of the garage and stiffly followed the instructions of the female voice coming from the phone Acnologia had situated in the front console.

“I've done a rough calculation of the time you've spent with your mother behind the wheel.” Jellal's hands tightened on the leather grips. The idea of his father watching him so closely set his hair on end. He didn't care for the way Acnologia's eyes inspected him on the days when he felt especially jittery and conspicuous. “I believe you have enough for an official driving exam and a learner's permit.”

“Yeah, that's what mom said.”

“So you've discussed it, then?” The quizzical tone rubbed Jellal the wrong way. He couldn't help but think he'd given something away even though that was ridiculous. The car wasn't a secret. Nor were the driving lessons Anna had been overseeing. Jellal chastised himself harshly. If he acted suspicious he'd be treated as such.

“Not really,” he said clearing his throat and taking a left turn a little too tightly. “I mean, yes. She brought it up today.”

“I see.” Acnologia remained silent until the route was complete and they sat inside the garage once more. The door slowly crawled shut behind them. Once the interior light flipped on Jellal sighed heavily. “Does me being in the car make you nervous?”

“No,” Jellal said quietly but added after a moment, “Maybe a little?”

“Why?”

“I don't know.” His hands slid from the wheel into his lap. “That's not true,” Jellal admitted with a sigh. He turned his head to the side to look at his father. “I heard you arguing on my birthday. I know you were against the car. I'm afraid you'll –”

“Take it away?” Acnologia laughed lightly and shook his head. “I know the car pleases you, _hijo mio,_ and as much as I don't want your unhappiness...” he trailed off and met Jellal's eyes. “Youth is often a reckless time. I only want to keep you safe. What you overheard was simple frustration and miscommunication.”

Jellal's face remained schooled into something blank. His father could insist the argument was a miscommunication all he wanted but the words still stung.

_“He is marked as a Fernandes and I demand a say!”_

“Jellal?” Acnologia's voice fizzled the memory. “Do you hear me?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, despite my misgivings I have no intention of confiscating the car or preventing you from driving it legally. This gift has made your mother happy and I won't ruin it. _Lo entiendes?”_

“Yes,” he murmured. “Thanks, dad.” It crossed his mind to promise a higher grade but he let that slide right on by. Acnologia's eyes were still zeroed in and Jellal's shifted uncomfortably. “Was there something else?”

“I've been meaning to ask –” Chills prickled his arms and down his spine and Jellal was happy to be in a jacket. “Are you feeling well? Lately you've been a little off. Jumpy and pale.”

“Uh,” Jellal mustered a laugh. He needed out of the garage. “No, I'm fine. It's just school. Next year is when things start to really count and I'm just trying to, you know, prepare...”

“Right.” Acnologia said slowly. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly but Jellal noticed. Or had he? Was he imagining this inquisition? _God,_ he needed to get out from under the spotlight. “I'm sure you'll do fine.”

Acnologia opened the car door and stood. He smoothed his shirt and pants before leaning back down to speak to Jellal.

“I've scheduled you an official exam for the first day of your winter break. You might want to work on your left turns before then.”

Jellal didn't breathe again until he was alone in the garage.

* * *

The permit was just a slip of paper but it made him feel independent. Like he'd done something just for him. Jellal stared at his full legal name and his excitement wavered only for a second. This was for _him._ It was another step toward making himself – name and mark and all – into something his own.

“Well?” Anna asked with a smile when he rejoined her in the powder blue convertible. He was silent for a beat too long and her face fell a bit. “What happened?” Jellal handed over the permit and her smile returned. “I was so worried when you came back out here scowling!” Anna's fingers carded through his hair. “I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks, mom. It feels a little surreal.”

“It feels surreal for _you?”_ she asked returning the permit to him and buckling her seatbelt. Jellal followed her lead and started the car. “I'm the one with a fifteen year old son who was stuffing his face with Cheerios five minutes ago!”

“It's been a long time since I've had Cheerios.” He grinned and backed out of the parking space.

“That's what I mean.” Anna's voice was wistful. “You've grown up so fast, little starboy, I can hardly keep up.”

The drive home was quiet and the snow finally began to fall in a light dust. When they turned into the most familiar section of town Jellal rallied his courage and opened his mouth.

“Do you think I could go out tonight in the car?”

“I was wondering how long you'd take to ask.” Her eyes were glued to the flecks of snow gathering around the windshield wipers. Jellal pulled up the driveway and rolled into the garage. “Jellal –” She hesitated and fidgeted with the sleeves of her jacket. “I don't want to have an awkward mom moment here because you're fifteen already and I know you've known how things work for a while. But please be safe.”

Jellal blinked. _Safe?_ His mind scrolled through everything she could've meant by the word.

“Do you... _need_ anything?” Anna's eyes searched his face. “Condoms or –”

“Mom, please,” he interrupted her. “I don't need condoms.” Jellal pulled the keys from the ignition and stuffed them away in his pocket. “I _do_ know how things work. I know what safe means. I don't need... any of that.”

“I just want to make sure, Jellal.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I don't want to be that parent who just assumes their kid isn't, uh, learning the ropes. If you ever need anything _please_ ask. I'd rather swallow my embarrassment and provide these things than raise a baby while you're still in high school or have to explain what happens when you don't treat syphilis.”

Jellal turned to his mother and grimaced. “I've seen _The Tudors,_ mom. I know what happens when syphilis goes untreated.”

“That is an extreme example but I'm just checking.” She finally smiled and stepped from the car. Jellal followed her and nearly choked on his relief that the discussion about _condoms_ and _safety_ was over. “If you want to go out in the convertible tonight that's fine. I understand your friend, Miss Milkovich, has a license?”

“She does, yeah.”

“Please be careful. Your dad is accepting of the car and the permit, but if something happens I don't know that I could convince him of a second round.”

“I promise, I'll be careful.”

“Okay.” Her smile was fake. He could tell. Raging against his father was a thing completely separate from his mother. Compartmentalizing the two was the only way he could justify lying to her.

Anna retreated into the house and Jellal headed back outside through the open mouth of the garage. The cold bit at his bare fingers. As he turned the corner just past the front gates of _Love and Lucky_ he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket anyway. All the words of the conversation he'd just had with his mother melted together. Below the surface, Jellal recognized the poison in his family didn't begin or end with Acnologia. _All_ of the adults represented parts of the same problem but no one made him feel worse than his father. The mark on his face singled him out and he couldn't just ignore it. Acnologia put it there and even if Jellal avoided the man from sunrise to sunset, he still had to see his own reflection.

_“He is marked as a Fernandes and I demand a say!”_

_“Don't ever forget who you belong to.”_

Maybe his Uncle Jude truly was a self-important dick who jerked his dad around on the business end of the family. Maybe Acnologia's resentment was completely valid. _Maybe._ All that aside, it didn't change the way his father spoke about him and _to_ him.

_“I haven't sheltered you within our gates as they have done with Lucy. I wanted you to see what would be yours one day when you take my place. Don't ever forget who you are.”_

Jellal angrily tossed aside the spent cigarette and didn't wait to see if the gathering snow snuffed it out. He was _more_ than property. He didn't exist just to take his father's place on a drug dealer's profitable throne of schadenfreude. Everything Acnologia did had an implied return now. School outside of home, friends, knowledge of the city. Was it truly all for the purpose of becoming his father? His thumb was white with cold and it took him three tries to light another smoke.

The phone in his jacket pocket began to vibrate and he poked the cigarette between his lips before pulling it out. Ultear's name flashed and he skipped the typical greetings.

“What is it?”

“How'd today go?” she asked, ignoring his foul tone.

“I got my permit.”

“Then why are you so grouchy?”

“I can take the car tonight,” he offered without answering her question. “I'll pick you up at nine.”

“Technically you shouldn't be driving without a licensed driver at all.” Ultear's tone was joking but Jellal wasn't feeling it.

“Meet me outside at nine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ultear ended the call and Jellal finally turned back toward home.

* * *

The room buzzed around him and Jellal felt it in the marrow of his bones. He'd lost Ultear the second he'd left Zancrow's dirty patio table behind. She'd been side eyeing him all the way across town and the rational part of his mind didn't think she was sorry to see him wander off in search of his own entertainment.

Fingers looped through his own and pulled him away from the crush of the crowd. Lis smiled up at him. There was something about her that made him feel so much lighter _._ Laxus made him feel like he had peers – like he wasn't alone in the situation he'd been born into. Lis didn't seem to care, or know, about any of that. She lived in a fluid moment that existed _right now._ And _right now_ her lips tasted like the peach vodka she favored and she pulsed with the same beat he did.

* * *

“What's up with you?” she asked, peeking around his shoulder for her shirt. “You're not always this dark.”

“Dark?” Jellal bent down to retrieve her shirt. He didn't watch her put it back on. The torn foil packet crunched under his shoe as he flushed away the latex. His eyes avoided every detail of the dirty bathroom.

“I don't know. You just seem angry.” Lis shrugged and hopped off the counter.

“It's nothing.” Jellal adjusted his pants, re-buttoned and zipped himself, and dug in his pocket for a cigarette but found another bag of powder instead. “Do you want...” he trailed off and stared at the bag, never meeting her eyes.

“You're a strange guy, Jellal.” She took the bag from him and dug around in Zancrow's medicine cabinet and drawers for a razor blade. “I mean, I know I'm fucked up, but you? You're something else.”

Jellal said nothing. Part of him wondered how rancid it actually was to snort a line off the porcelain back of a toilet. Part of him loved how disgusting it was. And part of him remained completely silent and dead. In the end it didn't matter. The rush passed and Lis dragged him from the bathroom and down the hall back into the music.

He didn't notice the rupture of the scene until his cheek was pushed against the cracked drywall. The metal cuffs might've hurt his wrists – if he could feel the bite, which, he could not. Everything happened in a flash. The wall, the cuffs, the cracked and uneven sidewalk outside tripping him up, and the grate separating him from Ultear's mother in the front seat of the police car.

The part of him that sat quietly by while he muddled his brain with drugs was shouting at him. Something about a powder blue convertible. It hurt.

_“I saw it and thought of you. Happy birthday, little starboy.”_

* * *

The bench twisted his cuffed wrists. Jellal closed his eyes and hit his head against the brick wall behind him. Heavy boots but light steps came to a stop at the end of the bench.

“I never thought you'd be the one I wound up bringing in.” Ur Milkovich's voice wasn't as harsh as Ultear's. She had less of a cynical edge. “Of all my daughter's friends, I thought you were the least problematic.”

Jellal shrugged. He didn't care what she thought of him.

“I called your mom. She didn't give much away on the phone.” When he remained silent, Officer Milkovich sighed heavily. “When I cuffed you, you were high as a kite, Jellal.” He finally rolled his head to the side and met her eyes.

“So? Did you tell my mom?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Look –”

“Your words are wasted on me, okay? I don't care.” His eyes slid back down the hall. The energy to move had left him. He heard her stand and sigh again when the voice of Acnologia surged in like a riptide from the front desk.

* * *

At first, the silence filled his ears like cotton balls. Neither one of his parents had uttered a word in the car and he'd ignored them both once they stepped through the front door. He'd headed straight for his room and didn't even bother to shut the bedroom door behind him. The whispers from the hallway didn't take long to find him.

_“Huele a la bodega,”_ Acnologia hissed. “A cheap one!”

“He's a teenager. Jellal hasn't ever stepped out of line before.” His mother sounded more defensive than he deserved.

“He picked a hell of a time to start, Anna.”

“Just let me handle it.”

“That car –”

“Had nothing to do with it. He's been running off with that Milkovich girl for months.” Jellal conjured a picture of his father's enraged face and didn't feel the satisfaction he'd expected – _wanted._ Instead he heard his mother's footsteps and the click of the door shutting. She said nothing and the sound of the rushing shower spray came from the bathroom. “Get up, Jellal,” she commanded.

Jellal hefted himself into a sitting position. His mother's expression was nothing but rage. “Mom –”

“I will not have this conversation while you reek of vodka and have glitter lipstick smeared on your neck. Shower first.” Her tone left no room for argument. Jellal shut himself in the bathroom and the steam threatened to choke him. He switched the knob to cold and left his clothes in a pile before stepping beneath the water.

Jellal didn't want to feel any guilt or shame for his behavior. His father deserved it. His mother, however – he stopped that train of thought before it could go any further. He couldn't afford to mix up all the carefully compartmentalized boxes in his head. Acnologia had sounded furious. Mission accomplished.

When Jellal exited the bathroom his skin was damp but his mouth was dry. He wanted one of the bottles of water he kept stocked next to his bed but Anna stood at the foot with her arms crossed. His fingers raked through his hair and he braced himself for her anger.

“I don't think disappointing really covers what happened tonight.”

“Mom –”

“What part of _I'll be careful_ translates to getting arrested in the worst part of town besides the harbor?”

“I didn't know the cops were going to bust up the place.”

“I'm sorry,” Anna clipped. “Is that some kind of excuse?” Jellal's head hung in frustration. He wanted to deal with his angry father, not his hurt mother. “I don't know what to do with you, Jellal, you've never acted out before. I need some time.”

Anna whirled around and left his room without another word. Out of habit, Jellal checked the closet for his shoebox. The little bags laughed at him but he couldn't hate them for it. Before downing two of the water bottles and crawling into bed, Jellal retrieved his phone from his pants pockets. Ultear's mother hadn't confiscated it. He did note that his cigarettes were missing, though.

He'd missed a series of frantic, and angry texts from Ultear. They ranged from _'Where the fuck are you?!'_ to _'I left your car on the curb outside your house. Let me know if you're alive.'_ In the space of one day he'd managed to run a full gamut. Point A being earning a learner's permit and Point Z being arrested while high at a party.

His skin itched. His mouth wouldn't rehydrate. And the spot on his neck that had been smeared with Lis's lipstick burned. Jellal pushed it all away and fell into bed.

* * *

On Jellal's sixth birthday his grandmother gifted him a book that shaped his childhood. The pages were thick and glossy and each of the illustrations had a fancy cover sheet of vellum. He had to develop his reading skills before he could truly grasp the concept of the stars and constellations and where they came from. It took him even longer to grow into an age where the science of it all made a modicum of sense.

More than anything else Jellal fixated on the idea of _outside._ His restless soul wanted to float away and see all of time and space first hand. Of course, at six, seven, eight, and nine _All of Time and Space_ was rather ambitious so he settled for the pages of books.

On Jellal's tenth birthday, his father gave him another gift. A gift that nailed his feet to the floor. He hated the mark immediately. The idea of personal identity being a thing given to him and a having a future already locked down was unsettling. Jellal's recent discovery regarding exactly how rotted the ship Acnologia expected him to helm truly was, spoiled any pride he might've eventually grown to feel in his names, the mark, and what they meant in the context of _Love and Lucky._

The only uncomplicated gift he'd received lately had been the powder blue convertible – which was currently on ice. Since the night of his arrest, the car had been parked in the garage. He'd watched Anna retrieve it from the curb. The keys still sat on the surface of his desk where she'd left them. Jellal thought maybe his mother returning the keys was more about her than him. She wanted to believe she could still trust him not to be reckless even though she knew better.

* * *

Something about the muted glow of all the candles made him want to _be_ better. His eyes scanned the rows of children in white robes clutching their own candles and lifting their voices to the high arches and points of Kardia Cathedral. Not too long ago he and Lucy had been part of the group lining the steps serving the altar. They'd learned their prayers together and though his fluency in Latin hadn't stuck around, if he closed his eyes he could still hear the verses.

Every Christmas Eve his family gathered as a unit for Midnight Mass. They filed in one by one and sat in the same pews they'd occupied every year before. The citizens of Magnolia in attendance were a basic _Who's Who._ Even Igneel, a known criminal and gang leader, held a spot near the front. He and his son Natsu would've stood out in any other church, in any other city. Igneel kept the rest of their pew empty. No one ever tried to take the seats. When Jellal was younger he used to wonder if the empty row served as a placeholder for all the members of the Dragon Slayers who weren't so bold – or if he had more personal reasons.

Midnight Mass was a thing that never changed. The aging priest couldn't have gone longer than an hour even if he'd wanted to.

The air outside bit at Jellal's ears and Lucy rolled her eyes when he hid his hands in his pockets. He'd never been one for remembering things like hats and gloves. Jude and Layla stood close to the curb but his parents were further back. Anna kept her fur coat tightly secured up to her neck and his father's arm loosely draped across her shoulders. Jellal, still in the shadows of the overhang, watched Acnologia's fingers toy with the strands of his mother's hair. The duality of the image of his father in his head versus the man in front of him casually intimate with his mother made him angry. When the black cars finally pulled around to drive them all home, Jellal's mood went up in smoke like so many snuffed out candles.

* * *

Jellal and Lucy were too old to wake up at dawn and pester their parents about the wrapped gifts under the tree. Only two traditions still held over from his childhood. Midnight mass the night before Christmas morning, and the brunch just after what used to be time spent tearing into presents. The family gathered just after ten in the morning in the back sitting room – the one most guests never got to see because it was reserved for family only – and exchanged gifts. Everything felt stiff and breakable. Jellal took a seat in front of the fireplace and stared at the flames. He wondered if his mother knew how filthy the hands were that touched her hair.

“Hey,” Lucy said quietly from beside him. Jellal turned his head to face her and smiled weakly. “I know you've been down lately and I know I can't fix it for you but I wanted to help.” She handed him a tidily wrapped box and he instantly felt guilty. He hadn't bothered with gifts because of his mood. Jellal's intentions were to anger his father and inconvenience Jude – hurting his mother and Lucy hadn't been part of the plan but he'd managed to do that anyway.

Jellal unwrapped the box and found a silver keyring with a bauble that resembled Polaris. On the top point was a curling _N._ Lucy's mouth was smiling but her eyes were wet.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, Lucy.”

“I don't want you to get lost, Jellal. I'd miss you,” she whispered. Lucy threw her arms around his neck and he couldn't help the way his forehead fell to her shoulder. He _hated_ this. If he could just wipe the mark from his face and burn away everything that made him like his father... but all his attempts set the people he loved on fire, too.

When Lucy pulled away she reached for his hand and closed his fingers around the keychain. The points of the star dug into his palm.

“You won't have to miss me, Lucy,” he said in a breath. “I promise I'm not lost.” She only shook her head.

“Merry Christmas, Jellal.”

* * *

The multi-colored lights strung over the front shrubs reflected off the snow piling on his windowsill. It him feel melancholy. The snow that had been shoveled out of the driveway and into the yard was dark with dirt and exhaust. No matter how it sparkled, snow was always dirty underneath. The blinking red, blue, and green lights added to the lie.

_'You all done with family time?'_ Ultear's text came through on his trek to the black box hidden in his closet. _'Still grounded?'_

_'Both.'_

_'If you can get out, I'll drive. There's always something going on at the harbor.'_

_'Swing by at eleven. I'll be at the corner.'_ Jellal tossed the phone aside and debated on a hit before leaving. He couldn't risk being put on total lock down because of suspicious behavior, though.

By the time Christmas Day rolled to a close both Acnologia and Jude had retired to the far wing to sulk over business. Lucy was pie-eyed with the fruit she swiped from the punch bowl Layla and Anna favored. Slipping out of the house was a smooth piece of cake.

Ultear waited for him at the corner and a blast of warm air greeted him as he slid into the passenger seat. She grinned and pulled a fast u-turn. Getting out of the Heartfilia part of town was a priority.

“Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?” she asked with sarcastic sweetness.

“Oh, sure,” Jellal quipped, tapping his fingers on his thigh anxiously. The dragon-stamped bags were burning a hole in his pocket. “You know how much I love family time.”

“You're such a grouch. My mom had to work and I was bored all day.”

“Sorry. I'm just sick of being stuck at home.”

“Don't get busted again and you won't have to be.”

“It's not like I _wanted_ your mom to arrest me.” Ultear sighed heavily but didn't prod him further. The ride to the tangle of streets that made up the harbor was short. Jellal's eyes fell to the opposite curb as Ultear pulled the Crown Vic into park. The snow was dirtier here than at home – more honest. He reached into his pocket and handed over one of the bags. When he finally tore his eyes away from the snow, Ultear was cutting their lines. She paused before handing over the glass tube.

“Are you going to run off with Lisanna Strauss again?”

“I don't know.”

“Jellal –”

“Don't lecture me, Ultear. I get it. She had a _Fairy Tail_ bag on her and she's a mess and _I get it._ ”

“Do you?” she snapped. “I know you're doing the angry boy thing and that's fine, but this city is bigger than you. There are things happening that aren't about you but it's still dangerous to brush against them.”

“I understand the concept of cogs and butterflies flapping their wings.” Jellal glanced over at her and her dark eyes narrowed. He smiled crookedly. “I remembered condoms.”

“My Christmas wish came true,” she deadpanned and handed over the tube.

* * *

Lis's hair took on the blue tint of the overhead lights. She was different. Her eyes were wider and glassier and tinged with red. Her grip on his arm was stronger and her fingernails left visible scratches on his shoulder. She kissed him on the mouth and tasted like something bitter.

He heard her whispers clearly even over the music and her lips left a film of sticky gloss on the shell of his ear.

“Let's run together,” she breathed. “We'll go and be other people.” Jellal's grip on her thighs loosened and she slid against him all the way down until her feet hit the floor. Lis's wide eyes betrayed a desperation he'd never seen from her before. Without warning her expression clouded over. She shoved past him and wove her way into the crowd, leaving Jellal with his pants hanging open. He felt cold and frustrated and not because he was still half hard and confused. Instead of exploring why Lis taking off upset him so much, he circled lazily looking for a familiar head of black hair. She found him first.

“Let's go,” she said wrapping her fingers around his forearm. “I can feel your mood dragging me down from across the room.”

The night was still blisteringly cold and snowflakes danced in the glow of Ultear's headlights. She didn't speak until the harbor was behind them.

“Bad trip?” When he didn't respond, she went on. “I saw your girl cut out early. Did you have a lover's quarrel?”

“She's not my girl,” he muttered. “She was different tonight.”

“Not shocking. The bag I found in my car wasn't the same stuff we do.”

“No?”

“Nope. She's chasing an even uglier dragon than you. Did you catch her on a down swing or something?”

“She said she wanted to run away.”

“Also not shocking. Stay away from her, Jellal.”

“What did you mean when you said she's chasing an uglier dragon?”

Ultear's sigh was deep and dramatic. “I swear, for the son of a drug lord you're pretty ignorant. Lisanna does heroin. I know what it looks like and I know what it smells like. That girl is rolling in it. _Fairy Tail_ is an old operation and they deal dirty stuff.” She paused again and rolled the Crown Vic to a stop at a red light. “I don't know why, to be honest. The Dreyars don't need the money anymore. The hotel is solid.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My mom's a cop and I pay attention and read the papers. Jesus, Jellal, do you live in a bubble?”

“I'm starting to think I might.”

Jellal wondered about Laxus's bubble. Despite the fact that he'd sought out the Thursday night cage fights in Igneel's lair, Laxus seemed above the web Jellal found himself tangled in. Maybe Makarov Dreyar was a better person than Acnologia and that made it easier for him to turn away from the underside of his family's business. Maybe Laxus flat refused to pick up the sword Jellal had managed to stitch to his fingers.

Either way, Jellal _wasn't_ Laxus and before he could stop the battle he needed to satisfy the urge to raze it all to the ground.

* * *

The corpse of the Christmas tree was cut into firewood. Jellal poked at the dead needles with his toe and wondered if cigarette ash would ignite the mess. Were all the needles so brittle or were there still wetter, greener ones beneath? The mess of needles didn't catch fire when he flicked the cherry of his cigarette into them and he was more than disappointed.

Sometime between Lis walking away from him on Christmas and the looming new year, Jellal had wedged himself into a funk. Everything made him tired. Except the white powder. _That_ kept him awake and in a spoon fed, artificially pleasant mood. It wasn't healthy to have a hit before breakfast and jitter at the table. It wasn't healthy to pound back a small mountain of bottled water and sneak the empties out to the recycle bin at night. It wasn't healthy to fall into bed at six in the evening because he'd been snorting lines since before six that morning.

Anna noticed the behaviors. She would hover on his edges offering sleep aids and snacks. Jellal didn't want the concern. He didn't _want_ her to see him this way but he still dusted the countertop in his bathroom over and over. Acnologia noticed, too. The way he raised his eyebrows when Jellal nodded off at the dinner table but never said a word pissed him off. Where was the confrontation? Why were the keys to the convertible still on his desk? _Surely_ his father realized the steady stream of missing product wasn't because _Lucy_ or _Anna_ or even _Layla_ had a secret drug problem.

Jellal wanted satisfaction but Acnologia continued to deny him an outburst. The lack of one made him feel like an animal under observation in a zoo. Acnologia saw every twitch at breakfast, took in every inch of his face that positively drooped with exhaustion, watched him excuse himself from dinner night after night because he simply could not stay awake – but said _nothing._

* * *

He remembered the lines in Ultear's car before the party. He remembered the way he twisted out of her grasp to orbit Lis. He remembered the scuffed dresser in an empty back bedroom just after the New Year's countdown. He remembered the powder residue that stuck to Lis's thigh when he lifted her to the surface of the dresser. He remembered being grateful he hadn't brought his own car when Ultear's mother's grip dug into his arm as she dragged him from the house with a broken belt buckle and rumpled shirt. His other memories were blurry because of the bright lights. They made his skin itch.

“You know,” Ur Milkovich passed him a bottle of water after unlocking the handcuffs. “He's never going to give you what you want.” Jellal rolled his head to the side and eyed her. He still felt muddy in the head.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“No?” She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed her arms behind her head. “You reek of cigarette smoke and directionless rage.”

“You don't know me.”

“I don't need to, Jellal. I have a teenage daughter close to you, I'm a cop, and I was your age once upon a time.” She sighed and Jellal felt a familiar expression poking at him. “You were born into circumstances that aren't what you thought so you're lashing out at the party you believe responsible.”

“Now I know where Ultear gets it. She thinks she knows everything about everybody,” he murmured. Officer Milkovich laughed but switched back to serious quickly.

“My daughter isn't as smart as she thinks she is but she plays a much safer game than you. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face.” She pursed her lips and glanced down the hallway toward the lobby where Anna Heartfilia might appear at any moment.

“What happened to Lis?”

“Lis?”

“She was –” Jellal paused and swallowed back the embarrassment. “We were together when everything happened.”

“You mean the girl you were _engaged_ with when you were arrested?” Officer Milkovich's humor fizzled and Jellal watched her pick through her words. “Miss Strauss is with her family now. I don't think you'll be seeing her again.”

Jellal shrugged but the world began to spin dangerously. Lis had become part and parcel to his party high. She represented something unwieldy and unpredictable and something he'd chosen for _himself._ The rational part of his mind chastised him for being so selfish. Lis was a _person._ She had her own struggles and reasons for getting high that had nothing to do with him.

_“This city is bigger than you. There are things happening that aren't about you.”_ Ultear's words prickled his skin.

“Is she okay?” He'd never asked Lis if she was okay – not that she'd've tell him anything even if he _did_ ask.

“She might be now. It just depends.”

“On what?”

“On her, Jellal. If Miss Strauss wants help, she'll get it.”

“Good,” he whispered. “Maybe she'll –” Jellal cut off. He could feel himself sinking into the post-high void. The place where everything was empty murk.

Anna showed up alone and the anger in Jellal's chest rallied briefly. She chewed his ear off during the ride home and into the quiet house. Acnologia watched from the outside patio as the lecture spilled into the kitchen. Jellal's eyes snagged on the bright cherry of a cigar and the smoke curling around the shape of his father and he wondered about the dry pine needles again.

* * *

  _January_

* * *

Jellal's world didn't stop spinning until exactly nine-oh-four in the morning on the first day school resumed after winter break. Sorano was speaking to him but he didn't hear a word. The set of eyes gazing up at him were brown instead of blue. She didn't sparkle, she didn't lure him in with an unspoken promise of reckless abandon. She only held out her hand and smiled.

“I'm Yukino,” she said softly. “I'm sorry I didn't catch your name earlier?”

“Jellal.”

In the space of a filthy inhale and a soft exhale, he'd managed to tangle himself in yet another silver girl.

* * *

Yukino smiled often and it made Jellal want to smile too. She took her studies very seriously and sometimes they'd spend hours on the library couches reading. Yukino always finished before him – even though, technically, _she_ was the one behind in coursework. After organizing her books and belongings in her backpack, she'd let him rest his head in her lap while her fingers combed through his hair. She brought him peace and he thought maybe she was magical.

Her magic only extended to her immediate presence, though. Everything else was still shaded by grey clouds. All of the solutions to his problem were wildly unrealistic. He couldn't be on her hip all the time, even during school hours. Yukino's home life wasn't as contentious as his but her parents were the _involved_ type. Jellal was embarrassed by his surprise. Though he'd been friends with Sorano for years he didn't know much about her beyond school. This knowledge gap shamed him.

The differences in their family cultures only served to make their other incongruencies stand out. Yukino wasn't as _experienced_ as himself. Before Lis, Jellal had been with only one other person and they hadn't left much of an impact on him. Lis was the bulk of his sexual reference and experience – though he recognized that sex on a high wasn't the best gage or learning tool. Yukino always pulled away after only a few kisses. She stopped his hands from roaming when they tried to stray beyond her waist. He hadn't ever considered sex to be a thing he'd want outside of a hookup but he did. The first time he found himself alone with Yukino in her bedroom she seemed to be more _interested_ but Sorano charged through and laid waste to the opportunity.

She scanned the room and even though they were both fully clothed, Sorano's eyes narrowed.

“Mom's home early,” she clipped. “She wants your help with the laundry.”

“Sure.” Yukino left a kiss on Jellal's cheek. “Sorry. I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah.” Jellal watched her go but Sorano stayed. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame.

“I'm not going to white knight my sister,” Sorano said evenly. “And I'm not going to judge what you two do together. This is just a friendly reminder that Yukino has been sheltered from even the most basic of things because my parents think she's a genius.” Sorano's gaze pinned him to the floor. “She's not smart about everything though, Jellal, and she's not your security blanket.”

“I never –”

“No judgement,” she interrupted again. “But you're bad at hiding your habits. You and her aren't equals.” Sorano pushed off the door frame and left him alone to find his own way out.


	4. Chapter 4

_February_

* * *

Jellal paced the floor of his bedroom. His thoughts boomeranged back and forth between Yukino and the black shoebox in his closet. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to feel all the things that came along with the head rush of new love but he also wanted to fall over the ledge and back into the familiarity of decadent numbness.

Since New Years, Jellal hadn't indulged in the same reckless way he'd done before. For the last month and a half he'd kept his lines on the bathroom counter and his highs contained within the four walls of his bedroom or behind the row of lilac bushes in the garden. It wasn't enough, though. He could feel the claws of his personal dragon digging into his shoulders.

* * *

“I'm quitting,” he said with finality. Ultear didn't even look up from her notebook.

“Why?”

“Because I don't want it anymore.”

“Is this something to do with Yukino Agria?”

“She makes me happy.”

“Does she?” Jellal watched Ultear continue to scratch away in her notebook. Her letters had always been more neat than his. “Do you still hide out in your bedroom on the weekends and decorate your face?” She finally folded her hands over the pages. “How's that working out for you?”

“I'll be fine once I'm over the hump.”

“Do you realize how steep the hump is, though?” Her face was placid but Jellal scowled. “How long have you gone without a hit?”

“Well –” Jellal's palms started to sweat. “Three? Four days?”

“Was it three or four?”

“Does it matter?”

“When you're aiming for sobriety, yes. Yes, it matters.”

“You don't think I can do it.” It wasn't a question.

“I think you're leaning on your girlfriend to pull you out of a murk she doesn't even know you're in.” Ultear leaned forward. “Have you nailed her?”

“I don't see how that's –”

“So no, then. I didn't think so. Look, Jellal, if you want to quit, I'll support you. You don't even have to ask me that. But Yukino isn't going to be a rock for you. You lack the healthy intimacy and she lacks the experience.”

Jellal's eyes fell to the surface of the table. “Sorano said something like that to me.”

“You're not as subtle as you think, Jellal. You cling to Yukino. You're _needy._ Don't pull her into your whirlpool. She'll drown.”

* * *

With Ultear's words still in his head, he flushed his entire stash of white powder. The bags he cut into shreds and tossed into the garbage bins already on the curb. His eyes darted from one painted star on his ceiling to the next. Part of him wished he'd saved just one hit. The impulse to cut apart the black shoebox and lick every crevice was difficult to tamp down.

He didn't sleep.

* * *

  _March_

* * *

Spring in Magnolia was always one of two things: miserable or beautiful. The rain suited his mood. Jellal _was_ miserable. At night he paced his room wished he'd never thrown away all the things that had occupied his younger mind but during school hours he could hardly keep awake. Any attempts at naps brought monstrous dreams.

“Hey,” Yukino's soft voice cut into one such dream of dragons and fire. Jellal's eyes flew open and he shot up into a sitting position. His shirt was damp with sweat and his head pounded. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He fumbled the buttons of his uniform shirt and shrugged it off. Braving the hallways without a proper top would put him at risk of punishment but the spare in his locker was free of sweat. Yukino took the dirty shirt from him and draped it over the arm of the library couch with the tips of her fingers.

“I don't think you're fine, Jellal.” He'd been _trying_ to be fine, though. He showered twice a day and made sure to eat regular meals. Of course, in the toil of just existing his schoolwork had fallen through the cracks. “You can tell me what's going on, if you want. I know it's only been two months but I care about you.”

“Not this, Yukino,” he whispered, reaching across her to grab his damp shirt. “It's not a thing I can talk about.”

“Is it a secret?” she asked, smoothing her hands awkwardly over her skirt. He knew he was hurting her feelings but he _couldn't_ tell her about the drugs. The thought of losing the one thing that pulled back his clouds, pushed him further into the murk.

“Yeah, kind of.” Jellal stood and the pair of brown eyes that gazed up at him were full of worried sadness. “I just need a little time, okay?”

“Okay.” Her reply was hesitant. Jellal's heart sank and he held out a hand. When she took it, he pulled her against him and sighed into her neck.

“I'm sorry, but need to handle this on on my own,” he murmured.

“I trust you.” Yukino pulled back and cupped his cheeks with her palms. She smiled before leaving a brief kiss on his lips.

It wasn't enough to chase away his dragons.

Jellal stalked from the library and skipped his locker. Though it was raining, the roof was the only place he wanted to be. He found Laxus crouched on the landing just inside the metal door. His attempts to keep the smoke outside were failing badly. The entire stairway reeked of cigarettes.

“You look like hell,” Laxus muttered, not actually looking.

“I feel like it.” Jellal fished a pack from his pocket and didn't even try to face the open door. He perched on the edge of the top stair and fell back onto the landing floor. The exhale of tobacco smoke burned his lungs but eased his mind. “Everything sucks.”

“I imagine for _you_ it does.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Laxus glanced down at him with a scathing expression. They didn't discuss his addiction in specific terms but Laxus knew. “There's this stuff I read about. It's a liquid.”

_“Don't._ That shit'll fuck you up just as bad. Plus you can't just _get_ it. Not like you get stuff now.”

“It was just a thought.”

“Do me a favor,” Laxus said, standing. He flicked his spent cigarette out into the rain and slid his hands into his pockets. His eyes fell to Jellal. “The next time you have a _thought_ , can it. Just –” His jaw flexed and he turned to head back down the stairs. “Just fucking can it.”

Jellal waited until the last bell to leave the stairway.

* * *

After twelve days and twenty-one hours, Jellal slipped up. It was a self-aware sort of tumble but no less horrifying than suddenly tripping unexpectedly in front of a train.

His day hadn't been great to begin with. He'd failed a test for the second time, forgotten half his books at home, _and_ managed to snap hard enough at Yukino that she'd bit her lip and fled his company at lunch. Pushing her to almost public tears felt worse than anything else he'd ever done besides hurting his mother and Lucy. The malignant voice in his head whispered at him.

_This is what you do now. You hurt people. Make it easier on yourself and take what you want._

Jellal ignored the impulse to seek out more drugs and burn down all the fragile bridges he'd built back to the other side. He even went so far as to _argue_ with himself. The back and forth was pathetic. The final straw came when he emptied his lungs of cigarette smoke while leaning out of his bedroom window. Just before calling it a night, his father rounded the corner of the gates and a red sedan sped by behind him. Acnologia floated across the driveway as if absolutely everything was right with the world. Pea gravel, glittering with the wetness of spring, crunched under his shoes. Anger welled in Jellal's esophagus like bile and he pulled the window shut.

When his eyes were glued to the stars above his bed, he conceded his first loss. Jellal left his bed and his room and his efforts behind. The hallway was dark but for the window at the far end. He didn't flip on the lights in his father's office – he didn't need to. The books were in the same place on the same shelf. He itched at the sight of the bags. How many did he need? One? Three? It seemed a waste to just take one – but it also seemed like signing a bad contract to take more... he took six.

The high lifted him above the rain and the gravel and the murk and Yukino's tears. When he crashed, sleep came with a dreamless force.

* * *

Jellal knew he'd been making a string of bad decisions since the first time he'd spotted the dragon stamped bags in his Uncle Jude's office, but he'd never made what he considered _mistakes._ Yes, he'd found himself in handcuffs and without condoms more than once. But none of those things had been in _public._ None of them had dragged his habit from the shadows and into the light of his _actual life._ He supposed relapse made him reckless. The hit he took before leaving the house for school in the backseat of a black chauffeured car was a last minute decision. He'd slept better than he had in weeks and felt _alive._ Why not?

* * *

He hadn't even made it past the courtyard when Ultear's fingernails dug into his arm just below the rolled up sleeve of his shirt. Her eyes were dark pools of a very dangerous black.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” she whispered sharply.

“I'm fine.” Jellal's grin was sloppy. He could feel as much but didn't bother to fix it. “I'm _better.”_

“No, you're completely fucked in the head, Jellal.” He tried to shake her off but she dug her nails in deeper. Maybe she'd make him bleed. Maybe he _wanted_ her to. “Listen to me, Jellal. Turn right back around and go home. You _can't_ be at school stoned out of your mind.”

“I need to find Yukino.” Jellal tried, again, to twist out of Ultear's grasp but she was strong.

“No, you need to get a hold of yourself. I told you not to drag her into your whirlpool so instead you brought the whirlpool to her? You've lost it.”

“I made her cry yesterday,” Jellal muttered, his eyes bouncing from one passing head to another. Were the hallways always so crowded in the mornings?

“So you want to fix it by showing up high and blowing your cover? She might've believed you were just depressed until this.” He finally lowered his gaze to Ultear and she _fumed_. “Go home, Jellal. Don't do this here.”

The small voice of reason in the back of his mind – the one who reminded him about condoms and seat belts – whispered that Ultear was right. He'd fallen from a rung and now he was back on the floor. Not a high rung, of course, but not on the floor either. Jellal's mood tanked. All of the clouds he'd been trying to pin back and away, rushed in. He couldn't see. He couldn't _breathe._

When he reached the curb in front of Saint Fabrizio's Academy, the rain began to fall. By the time he arrived back at home, Jellal felt cold and empty. He passed Jude on the stairs and even though his uncle's gaze burned into his back, it didn't warm him at all.

* * *

“Jellal?” Her voice was soft but the concern he felt in his bones. “Are you alright? Did you skip school today?” Anna's fingers brushed his hair from his forehead and he could only manage an exhausted grunt. Whatever made him think getting high before school was a good idea had long gone. All he had left was regret.

“Sweetie?” she asked again, louder this time. “Please tell me if you're okay.”

“Mm'fine,” he mumbled into the pillows. Jellal _wasn't_ fine.

“Your driver said he took you to school this morning but Jude says you showed back up at home around ten looking like a drowned cat.”

Jellal rallied his arms and pushed himself onto his back. The air chilled his sweat drenched chest and he shivered. Anna pressed her wrist to his forehead. He didn't have the strength to stop her.

“I don't have a fever, mom.”

“What do you need?” Anna folded her hands in her lap. He could feel all the words she wanted to say but didn't hanging between them. Jellal sat up and groaned when his head began to spin. His stomach growled. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. _That_ I can fix.” Anna's eyes flit over him one last time before she walked quickly across his room toward the door. He thought he saw her swipe at her cheeks as she left.

* * *

The next morning Jellal woke from a restless sleep and nearly jumped out of his own skin when he realized his father was standing at the foot of his bed. Acnologia's hands were clasped behind his back.

“You have the sleep of a pastured dog,” he said flatly. “Always moving but never going.”

“If you're trying to drop witticisms on me, they're wasted.” Jellal sat up and let his legs fall over the side of the bed. “It's too early for that and anyway, I think that one was lost in translation.”

“Shower and dress,” Acnologia said quickly. “I'll be driving you to school today.” He turned and left Jellal alone. The door didn't shut all the way and Jellal didn't bother to fix it.

The cold water shocked his skin and mind back to a functional place. It was with intentional stubbornness that he didn't revisit the previous day. He owed Ultear not only an apology, but a thanks as well. Jellal dressed in a fresh uniform and found his father waiting for him in the kitchen. Acnologia set aside his phone and pulled a warm plate of eggs and toast from the oven. Jellal took the plate and offered fork with caution.

“Is this so shocking, _hijo mio?_ Do you not remember my skills in the kitchen?” His father sighed with an unexpected wistfulness. “I suppose enough time has passed for you to forget.” Acnologia's eyes fixated on the mark he'd left on Jellal's cheek but his expression was blank. “Go ahead and eat. We'll leave when you're done.”

Jellal didn't touch his food until he was alone. His stomach rumbled at him and the weight of breakfast happily satiated the hunger. He left the plate and fork in the sink and found his backpack waiting by the front door – which stood open. Acnologia's personal vehicle sat, already running, in the half-moon driveway. The cloud of exhaust stood out against the cold chill of the morning. Jellal sighed and left his bag in the backseat before joining his father in the front.

“Is there a reason you're driving me?” he asked, clicking his seatbelt into place.

“Your behavior yesterday deeply concerned your mother. I just want to ensure your safe arrival at school.” Acnologia didn't look at him and Jellal followed suit. He watched the familiar streets flash by and quirked an eyebrow when his father took a left instead of a right.

“Uh –”

“Just a brief detour.” Acnologia's town car began to take a route Jellal knew better than he should. The harbor lost all its appeal in the daylight. His father rolled to a stop outside of a building Jellal thought he recognized but wasn't sure. It wasn't until he saw the _No Parking Any Time_ sign with it's faded red letters and peeling striped border that his face began to burn. He'd been with Lis in the backseat of Ultear's Crown Vic only a few feet away from that sign. The reflective paint had caught his eye in the snowy moonlight. Now, he could see it was caked with dirty rain splatters.

“Why are we here?” Jellal muttered.

“This is the underbelly of Magnolia, Jellal.” The word _Magnolia_ rolled off his tongue with an inflection Jellal used to love. “Do you see how filthy the world is, _hijo mio?”_ Acnologia directed a flat gaze at him. “There is a reason we do not fish off this harbor.”

Jellal opened his mouth but Acnologia held up a silencing hand and shook his head.

“There are men who muddy the waters, and the men who drink from them.” His father's eyes stared him down hard and Jellal's mouth went dry.

“I get it,” he whispered.

“Good.” Acnologia nodded and pulled away from the curb to turn the town car around. Neither one of them spoke a word during the drive to the school. Jellal's eyebrows flew up when his father angled into a parking space instead of dropping him at the front walk. He reached over to pull an envelope from the glove compartment and slid the keys into his pocket before opening the car door.

Jellal heaved a deep breath of embarrassment – his parents hadn't escorted him into school since his uniform had been a pair of blue shorts, white socks and shirt, and a pair of hideous black oxfords. His mother had kissed him on that first day and his father slipped a couple of taffy chews in his pocket as an incentive to _be sweet._

Today, Acnologia tossed his long ponytail over his shoulder and straightened the lapels of his suit jacket before turning to inspect Jellal – who self-consciously adjusted the straps of his backpack. He _hated_ the backpack but he wouldn't get a break in books until his tenth year. Jellal had already decided he wanted digital copies on a tablet, and a messenger bag. The backpack made him feel like a child. Acnologia finally nodded and slid the envelope into an inner pocket of his jacket to protect it from any stray rain drops.

The school day had already started but the hallways weren't completely deserted. No less than five sets of eyes were on the two of them between the entrance and the administrative office. Such a small number couldn't be considered a crowd but for Jellal, there were too many. The mark on his face was easily forgotten amongst classmates he'd had since primary school but _Acnologia's_ presence commanded an audience. He was tall, intimidating in appearance, and had marks of his own.

He handed the sister behind the desk the envelope. His smile was sharp enough to slice through the very brick of the walls.

“Please pardon my son's tardiness this morning, Sister Agatha.” Jellal grimaced in annoyance. _Of course_ he'd know her name. Sister Agatha didn't look impressed with Acnologia but opened the envelope and scanned the letter inside.

“We can excuse the tardiness this morning but his absence yesterday was truancy, Mister Fernandes.”

“His mother and I acknowledge that his very poor decision to walk away from the campus was inappropriate but we also admit the error was ours. Jellal had an appointment he could not miss.”

Sister Agatha eyed the note again and pursed her lips. Jellal could tell she wanted to tell his father to see himself out but she simply sighed instead.

“I'm sure we can see a way to wiping the absence off his record, Mister Fernandes, provided the appointment was medical in nature.”

Acnologia smiled smoothly and nodded. “Of course. I'll have my wife get one over to you by the end of the school day. I'd hate to see his chance at exam exemptions tarnished because of a mistake on my end.”

Jellal winced. If he wanted _any_ shot at exemptions he'd have to get himself together two times over before May. Sister Agatha seemed to be on the same train of thought as her mouth twitched.

“Of course not.” She set aside the letter and reached for a pad of hall passes. Her handwriting was atrocious and Jellal couldn't read any of it – not that it mattered at all. Sister Agatha handed him the pass and folded her hands together. “I appreciate your efforts, Mister Fernandes. We'll look for any communication with your wife.”

“Thank you,” Acnologia said graciously.

“May God go with you.” Sister Agatha wrapped up the conversation with finality.

“And with you, Sister.” Jellal didn't protest when Acnologia took him by the arm and led him back into the hallway. His eyes were stern. “I will retrieve you myself today. Look for the town car.”

When Acnologia spun around and left him in the hallway, Jellal finally released a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes heavenward.

* * *

Yukino found him in the courtyard. His appetite had returned and when she offered him another sandwich, Jellal took it with a smile.

“I was worried about you yesterday,” she said, taking a seat beside him. “They said you just _walked out.”_

“I, uh, I wasn't feeling well.” He grinned at her. “I got in some trouble over it.”

“I feel like trouble might be your thing, Jellal.” Yukino's smile was hesitant.

“Sometimes.” He pushed aside his food trash and canted his body to face her. “Listen, I'm really sorry about the other day. I know I hurt your feelings and that's not okay.”

Yukino searched his face with a quiet concern. She brushed his cheek with her fingers and brought his forehead against hers. He inhaled her citrus perfume and closed his eyes.

“I know it's selfish but I wish you would tell me what's going on.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I need –” Jellal paused and took her hands in his. “I just need some time to get a handle on it. I promise I'll tell you when I have that, okay?”

She didn't smile and that hurt. Instead, she tilted her head and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

* * *

Jellal didn't ask his father about the fakery revolving around the absence note. The town car was stiflingly silent during the drive home. Acnologia said nothing until they pulled around the driveway.

“Your uncle has acquired theatre tickets through an associate. Our appearance is a necessary thing so you and Lucy will be alone tonight,” he said, pocketing his keys. “Remember our chat about drinking the water.”

* * *

He did remember. Jellal remembered every word. He also remembered Yukino's almost-tears and her desperation to connect with him. And the nightmares. And the stupidity of showing up to school high. And the cold walk home. And the humiliation of being escorted into the school like a kindergartener. He couldn't _not_ remember. Jellal decided that _tonight_ he'd try to forget.

So he did.

Somewhere between Ultear's Crown Vic and the back wall of a pulsing room, he forgot everything. He even forgot to ask the name of the blonde girl who's hair he convinced himself was silver.

* * *

Jellal didn't have as much of a problem with secrets as he did shadows and lies. They ate at him. His mind rejected what he'd done but his heart wouldn't let it go. He felt trashy and selfish. Slipping out of the house after Lucy was in bed had been an effort to forget – and it worked! Except he'd forgotten to _not_ hook up with a stranger while stoned out of his mind on blow.

“You're a moron,” Laxus grunted.

“Thanks, I hadn't noticed.” Jellal's puff of cigarette smoke battled with the sticky humid air. “I gotta tell her.”

“Why? Just do her a favor and break up with her.”

“She should know and have the option to break up with me herself.” He could feel Laxus's disapproving glare.

“You're making this about _you.”_

“How's that?”

“You're dumping what you did on her and then forcing her to do the work of ending the relationship.” Laxus sucked back a deep pull and blew the smoke in Jellal's face. “Not only that but you'll give her a complex.”

“A complex?”

“Are you really so dense?” He flicked the butt through the chain links. “She's a virgin and you're the guy fucking randos at raves. You'll make her feel like she's not enough. Just end it and go cold turkey on _everything.”_

“Are you an expert on psychology now?”

“No, I'm just not a total idiot with my head up my ass.” Laxus turned sharply and left Jellal at the barrier. “Just do whatever you want, man, that seems to be your game lately.”

Jellal's thoughts got away from him and he wound up late to first period reeking of smoke.

* * *

The afternoon sun cast shadows in the shape of leaves on Yukino's hair. Jellal approached her with a churning gut and pounding heart. She took his hand and smiled.

“I didn't think you were here today.”

“Why not?” the question spilled from his mouth much too quickly.

“I heard you were late for first period.” Her cheeks flushed a familiar pink. “I shouldn't have assumed.”

“I _was_ late but I'm here. I had a thing to work out.” Yukino's smile wavered and she pulled him further under the tree. Over her shoulder Jellal could see Ultear quietly munching on her peanuts. Her face was blank but her eyes were not.

“Jellal –” Yukino tucked a strand of silver behind her ear. “I know that you and I, uh, I know we aren't really the same in a lot of ways.” Jellal's eyebrows flew up. “Sometimes I wonder why you're with me and not anyone else.”

He shook his head and tried to beat back the cawing of crows in his head. “Because I like you and I don't want anyone else.” Yukino's hand pressed into his chest and he panicked at the state of his guilty, guilty heart rate. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” She frowned up at him. “I just want to make sure you don't feel some kind of obligation to spend your time on me when I'm not really –” Yukino paused and sighed. “When I'm not on your level... with certain things.”

“Ah, okay, uh, look, Yukino –” He took both of her hands and smiled, _really_ smiled. All his intentions of coming clean to her, gone. “I like you. I _want_ to spend time with you because you make me happier than I've been in a while. I don't care that you haven't done stuff I've done. I only care about _you_ and _me._ ”

“But what if –”

“We'll figure things out as they come. I'm not trying to get under your skirt or take something from you, okay? I don't – I mean, I _do_ care about that _but_ I'm not going to pressure you into _whatever.”_ Jellal wanted to smack himself for such poor delivery. “Listen, I've been really shitty lately and I'm sorry. It's not your fault and I had all this going on before we even met. I'm sorry for making you feel bad over it and I'd understand if you _did_ tell me to fuck off.” Yukino laughed softly and leaned against him. The breeze ruffled her hair and it tickled his chin.

“I'm not telling you to fuck off, Jellal.”

_“Good.”_ The word came out almost like a sigh of relief. “Let's do something this weekend. Just you and me. Not at your house or mine, just _away.”_

“I'd love that.” Her words were genuine and lifted him up. Yukino surprised him by rising up on her toes and kissing him quickly. “I have a study session over lunch and I'm already late. Call me tonight?”

“I will.” She left him in the shade to sink back into feeling like shit but still smiling like a fool. His smile died the second his gaze returned to Ultear. Jellal joined her at the picnic table and braced for judgement.

“You're really fond of digging holes, aren't you?”

“I'm trying to fill this one.”

“You can't fill a canyon with bullshit, Jellal.”

“I meant everything I said to her.” Ultear raised an eyebrow but didn't contradict him. She sighed and pulled a wet-nap from her bag and began to wipe the salt from her fingertips.

“I assume you didn't tell her about your party girl?”

“I don't know how! Laxus says I should just break it off with her cold turkey but I feel like she should know what happened. He said I'll give her a complex.”

“He's not entirely wrong. She'll either think you were catting around because she's not enough of a freak for you and cut you off, or she'll _try_ and be a freak for you and ruin her life.” Ultear shrugged and stuffed the dirty napkin into the empty peanut bag. “Either way, it's awful.”

“So you think I should breakup with her, too?”

“I think you're going to do whatever you want anyway. I do hope that you've at least accepted that this relationship isn't going to last. You can placate her with dates and sweet talk and whatever else, but she's not right for you and, frankly? You're bad for her.”

“I can be good for her!” Jellal scowled. He had good parts left of him, right?

“I'm not saying you're a bad person, Jellal,” Ultear said quietly. “I'm just saying this thing you have with Yukino is going to wind up toxic unless you end it.”

“You're wrong.” Jellal swung his legs over the bench, spun around, and left Ultear alone at the picnic table.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HI! HELLO! PLEASE DON'T SKIP THIS NOTE!**
> 
> I've been really displeased with how this story has been playing out as far as structure. Unlike The Fall of Mercutio which takes place over a couple of weeks, Starboy covers almost two years. I'm not used to writing things that span that far so I did a truly awful job of dividing the time.
> 
> That has now been fixed. The chapters are not of a consistent length but I'm happier with the new structure and breaks.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE!! The new material I intended to be in this update actually begins at the tail end of the new Chapter Four. I'm sorry to make readers dig for that but it's really better this way. I hate being the fussy fanfic author who's always messing with things after they're posted but I really prefer the story as it is and going forward I've got maybe three more chapters before the end of Starboy and the beginning of The Fall of Mercutio.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much to anyone who's still reading this thing. I'm grateful :)

_April_

* * *

Ultear _wasn't_ wrong and he knew it so he tried to _give_ Yukino as much as he had and _take_ as little as he could. Jellal flushed the powder again and shredded the bags. He showed up for meals with his family and turned his lights out at night even though he didn't always sleep – he even managed to pull up his literature grade a few points.

But he _itched._

Jellal felt restless and cranky. For Yukino he was all smiles and kisses but for everyone else he had nothing but irritation. He stayed away from Acnologia's office but the crows in his head with their black wings and loud caws denied him peace. The noise was an unsettling roar and when he finally caved it was on a Tuesday at three in the morning one week away shy of Sorano's birthday in mid-April.

He could suddenly breathe and spin and smile and mean it. But in his heart and stomach he felt the hard knots of disappointing failure. Ultear's eyes had a knack for picking him apart and he knew she could see the crash on him. Jellal wondered if she ever regretted handing over the glass tube that now ruled him or if she simply regretted that he was so sloppy.

* * *

The morning after his third late night binge Ultear confronted him. When the metal door of the roof clanged shut, Jellal spun around expecting to see Laxus and found Ultear instead. For a brief moment he wondered if he'd actually gotten out of bed and come to school at all.

“Don't look so surprised, Jellal, did you think I didn't know about your boys club up here?” She smirked and Jellal rolled his eyes. He turned to face the chain link barrier again, the city beyond was an unfocused blur. “You look like hell.”

“I appreciate the compliment but I have a girlfriend,” he muttered, digging for his cigarettes.

“Not for long if you keep tripping into mini-spirals.” Ultear crossed the roof and snatched his hand. She pressed a bag into his palm and for half a second his entire body lurched. But this bag was different.

“Pills?”

“Yes, pills. You need help and you won't find it in your dragon powder.”

“I don't need _pills,_ I just need –”

“Stop _lying_ to me. I know about this stuff.”

Jellal's eyes flit from the baggie of pills, to Ultear, and finally back to the city. On a clearer day he might've been able to see all the way to the haze of the harbor but not on this morning. Summer was coming but the mists of spring still clung until the sun burned them away.

“I'm tired, Ultear.”

“You _can_ stop, Jellal.” She sighed and took his wrist again. “Look, take two of these tonight, okay? They'll help to ease you off and you won't be doing anything cold turkey.”

He wrenched his wrist free and stuffed the bag into his pocket. Ultear's sharp gaze could still be felt. “What?”

Ultear scowled at him. “Nothing.”

* * *

The pills wound up in the drawer of his bedside table. He didn't want them, well, _sometimes_ he did. Jellal told himself he really _could_ quit anytime but he didn't think he was truly ready to give up the sick pleasure he took in stealing from Acnologia. His indecision had him awake well into the small hours of the morning pacing back and forth between his bedroom window for a cigarette and lines on his bathroom counter.

_Maybe if you can keep the lines thin..._ _Maybe if they get thinner and thinner... Maybe one less line every night? Or maybe one less line a week?_

Jellal fell into a research hole on withdrawal symptoms and techniques and didn't realize how quickly the night had faded away until the sky was a purple grey. The sight became common and he felt more lost than when he'd began contemplating quitting to begin with. Even so, he didn't touch Ultear's pills.

* * *

Surprisingly, it was Anna who gave more pushback when it came to the convertible than Acnologia. When Jellal brought up driving himself to the harbor for Sorano's birthday party, his mother frowned.

“Why is her party at the harbor?”

“The Agria family has a private slip for their yacht,” Acnologia said without emotion from the table.

“Oh, right,” Anna muttered. She tapped her fingernails on the kitchen counter and eyed Jellal carefully. “Is her party on their boat? Will they be on the water or will everything stay at the slip?”

“The boat will be on the bay from two to six. I was hoping to see Yukino before that, though. Maybe noon-ish?”

“Is she the younger sister that came home in December? Why haven't you ever brought her here?” Jellal pulled a face. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't want Yukino in the room where he crawled all over the walls at night because he was stoned and anxious and –

“Anna,” Acnologia interjected. “Children do what children do. He isn't marrying her.” Jellal struggled to keep his expressions in check. He _wasn't_ a child. He also didn't appreciate the way his father brushed Yukino off like he might a phase. Anna's eyebrows dented in frustration.

“I'm only curious,” she said in a quieter tone. “I don't mind if you take the convertible on Saturday but _please,_ Jellal, be careful.”

“I promise,” he murmured.

“Unless your father has any objections?” Anna glanced over her shoulder at Acnologia who grunted. “Be home by ten, please.”

“Thanks, mom.” Anna smiled at him and left the kitchen. Acnologia finally tore his eyes away from his stack of papers.

“Remember what I said about the water, Jellal?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Do you?” Acnologia's eyes were a solid grey and pinned him to the kitchen floor. “The Agria sisters come from a family in the same class as us. Do not rock their boat.”

“I won't,” Jellal whispered.

* * *

Yukino waited for him at the mouth of the slip. He'd parked further than he'd wanted but the lots were crowded. She smiled when he approached and ran her fingers over the buttons of his shirt.

“You look nice.”

“Well, it's a party, right?”

“It is. Sorano is so dramatic today. I had to sit through a fashion show this morning because she couldn't figure out what to wear.”

“Sorano? In _distress?”_ he said leaning down to brush his lips over her ear. “I don't believe it.”

“She can be obnoxiously emotional when it suits her.” Yukino sighed and turned her body toward him. “She's expecting a fan club today. All the pretty girls.”

Jellal laughed and slid his arm around Yukino's waist. The fabric of her sundress was thin and he could feel the warmth of her body beneath. “That sounds exactly like what she'd want.”

“You and Erik will be in a small crowd of guys on her list. I don't get the impression she's worried about competition.”

“Trust me, there's none. Your sister's crowd of devotees aren't after what I've got.” Jellal wasn't sure what possessed him to drop his lips to Yukino's neck but he did. Her skin tasted sweet like oranges and her gasp of surprise was even sweeter.

* * *

The Agria's yacht, _Thessaly,_ embarked on it's circle around the bay at promptly two in the afternoon. Sorano's party had an easy, chilled mood. Her parents weren't present, only a catering team. This revelation didn't surprise Jellal. Despite her love of attention, Sorano wasn't wild and neither were most of her friends. Jellal wouldn't've dreamed of causing mischief on the Agria's boat even _without_ Acnologia's pointed warning. Additionally, Ultear's presence kept him firmly grounded.

Yukino was never more then arm's length away from him all afternoon and Jellal couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so at ease with himself. He hadn't craved a hit all day. It wasn't until after an array of _orektika_ and _mezethes_ were elegantly laid out that the crowd started to mill in smaller circles. Jellal thought maybe there were thirty guests plus staff so when Yukino took his hand and pulled him down a small hallway, he didn't think they'd be immediately missed.

“Does your family have a boat?” she asked, threading their fingers together.

“Yeah, but not like this. It's a lot smaller and older.”

“Do you go out on it often?”

“Nope. My parents and Lucy's parents go down to the regattas at Akane twice a year but that's about it.” His skin prickled with wary excitement when she pushed open a door to what looked very much like a bedroom. “They're taking a cruise this summer but I'm not –” Yukino spun around and pressed a finger to his lips.

“I know your mom and dad keep you on a leash, Jellal,” she whispered. “I know it's not a thing you like to talk about. My parents are always watching me because they think I'm too naive to – well, to have things I want.”

“Yukino –”

“Everyone is here for my sister and no one will notice we're gone.” The door clicked closed and her hands slid over his chest and around his neck. “I want this,” she whispered. _“You.”_

Yukino was soft and her citrus perfume excited him more than any of the drugs he'd poisoned himself with. She wasn't anything like Lis. Yukino kissed him and whispered things he could actually hear. Jellal tried to be gentle and generous but there really wasn't a way around the truths of virginity. She bit her lip and tried to keep her discomfort from him but he saw it. Her sighs when she finished sent his heart racing.

When her dress was back on her body, she turned around and he obliged her with a zip. Yukino's skin and bra disappeared beneath the fabric of the dress and he frowned. Flashes of honey blonde and blue lights destroyed the serenity of the moment. He'd thought Yukino magical enough to kill all the rotten parts of him but now he realized that, just like another silver girl who'd come and gone, she was just a person. The revelation killed his mood dead in the water and Jellal wondered how long it would take for her to regret giving him this part of herself.

Jellal took her hand and they returned to the party. Nothing had changed. No one seemed to notice they'd been gone for a solid half hour – except Ultear. She glared at him and Jellal felt it in the marrow of his bones.

The sun inched downward but still sat in limbo from its high peak and the horizon. When the _Thessaly_ docked, Jellal felt the whisper of an itch. He wanted away from the party. He wanted something white – _No!_ His heart screamed. _Silver is good enough!_ Jellal's mind disagreed. Yukino clung to his side and he felt heavy.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly as they stepped apart from the crowd at the mouth of the slip.

“Yeah, I'm good.” He smiled down at her but thought she could tell he was faking it. “Boats aren't really my thing.”

“I can tell.” Yukino glanced around before sighing. “Thank you for coming and –”

“Please don't thank me, Yukino.” he said touching his palms to her cheeks. “I'm not really worth all that.”

“You really are dense, Jellal.” She lifted his mood with her smile. “I don't regret any part of today.” He kissed her then and his hands slid down to the small of her back. He remembered the press of her skin against his and the way she sucked in her breaths.

“I need to get home,” he whispered against her lips. “I'm not on great terms with my parents and today was an act of faith on their part.”

“I don't want you in trouble,” she said, kissing him once more. “Go home.”

“I don't know if I can get away tomorrow –”

“It's fine. Tomorrow we're going out again as a family. I'll see you Monday probably.”

Jellal left Yukino on the slip and began the trek back to his car. His stomach lurched when he saw Ultear leaning against the back bumper. She wasn't smiling.

“You did it, didn't you?” she asked. “Jellal –”

“I didn't seduce her or whatever you're imagining, Ultear. She very much planned that.”

“And you enjoyed it so much you're going home at seven in the evening?”

“My mom –”

_“Please,”_ Ultear drawled. “You're so full of shit. You feel guilty for taking her v-card after getting some strange a few weeks ago and it's suffocating you.”

His jaw flexed irritably. He stepped past Ultear and slid into the driver's seat of his convertible. His mouth nearly fell open when Ultear took the seat next to him.

“What are you doing? I'm not taking you home with me.”

“My mom dropped me here on her way in to a late shift. You can take me home or we can do something about the way you keep itching your palms and arms.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you think I didn't notice? Did you even bother with the pills I gave you?” Jellal kept his eyes on the view beyond the windshield glass. _Had_ he thought she didn't notice? Or was it more like _he_ hadn't noticed himself?

“I need to be home by ten.”

“Do you have anything on you?”

“No. No, I wasn't going to bring any of that with me.” Jellal sighed and reached over Ultear to retrieve his cigarettes from the glove compartment.

“We can get some stuff from Zancrow.”

“His stuff sucks.”

“You don't have another solution. I imagine if you go home right now you won't be able to leave again.”

“That's true.” Jellal blew out a lungful of smoke. “Zancrow it is, I guess.”

* * *

Jellal pulled the powder blue convertible into the garage at exactly nine-fifty-nine. Anna was waiting for him in the kitchen. She watched in silence as he pulled five bottles of water from the pantry and headed up to his room.

He spent the night making up for Zancrow's low grade product and reliving the day in his head. Despite his best efforts his tell-tale heart betrayed him. Yukino's hair flip-flopped from silver to blonde and ruined everything.

* * *

  _May_

* * *

Yukino breezed through her exams but Jellal struggled. She tried to help him but study efforts usually wound up on the floor of her bedroom with the majority of their clothes. He did pass but only barely.

For a solid four days between logging his exams and the end of the school year Jellal thought maybe he and Yukino had found a sweet spot. He'd scraped together a way to keep his highs to not a _minimum_ but manageable.

_Manageable_ meaning he was up three to four nights a week pacing his bedroom, obsessively thinning the lines on his bathroom counter, and sucking down more cigarettes than he could count. Anna didn't ask about the bags under his eyes – he thought maybe she attributed them to late night studying – but Acnologia eyed him with a firm purse of his lips.

* * *

“What are you doing this summer?” Jellal asked Laxus on the morning of the last day of school. He didn't like to admit it but mornings on the roof with Laxus were the most stable part of his life. Morning would always come and the roof would always be there.

“The old man wants me to shadow Gildarts but fuck that.” Jellal raised an eyebrow and found Laxus grinning wickedly. “I bought a car.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“What kind of car is it?”

“A junker. Total mess. I'm gonna rebuild it.”

“Wow. That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It's a shit-ton of work.” Laxus emptied the smoke from his lungs and tossed the butt of his cigarette through the chain links. “I can't wait. I need to keep busy or I'm gonna go crazy.”

“Thursday night cage fights not doing it for you anymore?”

“They're fine but I don't know.” Laxus scowled at the state of his knuckles. “I don't want fucked up hands forever.”

“Have they inked you up yet?” Jellal watched Laxus's shoulders sag a bit.

“No. I asked but Igneel refused. He said he wants me to be sure. I gotta wait until I'm sixteen. It's bullshit. He's got guys my age with fresh ink.”

“Yep. Erik showed me his.”

“I'll make him eat that refusal when I'm still around after my birthday.” Laxus turned around and leaned against the barrier. “What about you?”

“I don't know. My parents are going on a cruise and whatever else. They're leaving in three weeks and not coming back until August.” Jellal felt Laxus's side eye but ignored it.

“You're gonna be good by yourself until then?”

“My aunt and uncle and Lucy will still be around.” Jellal watched the last of his cigarette light up and then die. Laxus pushed off the barrier and headed for the door.

“Hey,” he called before disappearing into the building.

“What?”

“Don't do any dumbass shit.” Laxus's voice was barely more than an irritated growl but Jellal smiled.

“I'll try.”

* * *

Ultear cornered him after the last bell had already rung. His locker still had some straggler items and she gave him no room to escape.

“I don't want to go,” he muttered. Parties out in nature were not his favorite.

“Why? You have big plans for your bathroom? Come on. It's the end of the year.”

“No.”

“Are you taking Yukino out then? Sorano said at lunch they're not leaving for vacation for another week.”

“No.” Jellal paused. Yukino hadn't said anything to him about a vacation. “I don't know,” he added quickly.

“Ask her. If she's busy you can come out with me.”

“Hey,” Yukino's voice startled him and he shut the locker door abruptly.

“Hey.” He pulled her into his side and glared at Ultear. “I'm not going,” he said firmly.

“Going where?” Yukino asked with her typical smile.

“There's a party tonight at the park just north of town,” Ultear said with a shrug. “Jellal doesn't want to go.”

“Why?”

“Because he's a grouch.” Ultear grinned and turned to leave. “Let me know if you change your mind. I'll give you a ride. I know how you are about your car.” Jellal rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Yukino.

“What are you doing this summer?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist.

“We go to see family oversees usually. It's exhausting but we don't see them all year.”

“I didn't know.” Jellal didn't mean to sound so wounded – as if he hadn't lied to her _repeatedly_ over the last five months.

“I'm sorry.” She let him pull her into him and leaned up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I've got about a week to prep for a long trip but I'll make time for you.”

Jellal's summer suddenly looked bleak. Laxus had a project. His parents were leaving him behind. Even Yukino had her own plans.

“Tell me about this party. Why don't you want to go?” she asked.

“Because it'll be loud.” Yukino laughed and stepped back. She took his hand and they wandered toward the front of the school for the last time.

“From what I understand, most parties are that way.”

“They are, trust me.”

“What if _I_ wanted to go? Sorano told me about it last night. She said it's a big deal. Lots of people from lots of schools here in town.”

“Yeah, it's not a small thing. I went last year but I wasn't really into it.” He didn't mention that the previous year he'd been an entirely different person. Less _dirty._ Less _broken down._ Jellal could see the black car waiting for him on the curb through the open doors. “If you want to go, I'll go too. I want to have time with you before you leave.”

Yukino's bright smile chased away a few of his shadows, but not enough. “I'll text you. Sorano will probably drive.”

“I'm riding with Ultear. There's no way –”

“You really do love that car, huh?”

Jellal grinned and leaned down to kiss her neck and whisper in her ear. “I do love the car. I'll see you tonight.”

His glow fizzled the moment he left her side for the waiting car. He tried to ignore the slowly tightening knot in his stomach but failed.

* * *

The park was actually a small annex of the nature reserve but allowed for camping and picnics the actual reserve did not. Picnic areas had floodlights attached to electric poles but it was the fire and the headlights of cars that lit the area. Jellal had a pocket full of bags but didn't indulge with Ultear before they left her car. His gut had him on high alert and he didn't need cocaine to ramp it up. This on its own was an odd sensation.

Sorano found them first with Yukino on her heels. Ultear slipped her arm through Sorano's and they wandered off together. Yukino grinned at him and pressed close. She smelled like something sugary and sweet. It wasn't until she kissed him that he recognized the butterscotch liqueur and laughed.

“Did you and your sister get into the liquor cabinet before heading out tonight?”

Yukino flushed pink. “A little bit. These last two weeks have been a nightmare. I'm not used to exams given in that way. I needed to relax a little.” She kissed him again and he wanted her. “Is Ultear's car unlocked?” she breathed against his lips.

“Uh, I think so?” Jellal didn't stop her from pulling him through the maze of cars toward the Crown Vic. He stuffed away the memories of the last girl he'd been with in the car – everything about the evening felt surreal. In the heat of the moment he _almost_ pulled the wrong packet from his pocket but managed to get his fingers on the foil instead of the plastic. Yukino's kisses were sloppier than normal and Jellal wished he'd taken a hit with Ultear but now it was too late. Her fingers dug into his shoulder and she sighed languorously when they'd finished.

Yukino was more flexible than him and had herself put together faster. He all but stumbled from the backseat of the Crown Vic. The party now pulsed beyond the picnic area and spilled out over the cars and into the darkness. Jellal's chest felt lighter and Yukino's smile eased off the tension that had been building all day.

The row of coolers at the far end of the lot were filled with bottles both plastic and glass. Jellal stuck to water but Yukino preferred the juice mixers. For a brief moment he wondered at the juice to vodka ratio but let it go. The last of his inhibition fizzled when Yukino pressed a bottle of something red into his hand. He downed it and when he spun around to grab another water... the entire universe came to a screeching halt.

Her blonde hair was in an intricate braid that fell over her shoulder. Her blue eyes speared right through him and Jellal couldn't breathe.

“Hey you,” she said, her red lips twisting up into a grin. “I think we've met.”

“Uh,” Jellal scrambled. The blonde girl from the rave. She was _here._ Yukino tugged on his hand. “I –”

“Is this your girlfriend?” the blonde asked. “I didn't know you had one.”

“Well –” Jellal's tongue had grown four sizes, apparently. “I –”

“Have you been together long? I'm Jenny, by the way. We didn't exactly exchange names back in March.”

“Jellal, who is this? Are you friends?” Yukino's voice was slurred but he could feel her irritation and suspicion.

“We're –” His lungs weren't working. _Why weren't they working?_

“We hooked up at a rave earlier this year. I don't normally do that kind of thing but he looked pretty harmless.” Jenny's smile wasn't exactly cunning but her honesty was a wrecking ball.

“You – you _what?”_ Yukino's irritation flipped to anger in an instant. She spun on him and nearly tripped. Jellal reached out to steady her but she swatted his hand away. “You _hooked up_ with her? And you didn't even know her name? _While we were together?”_

“I –” Jellal's head swam. Yukino's anger was quickly melting into something very hurt. “Yes. I'm sorry, I meant to tell you but things just –”

“They just _what_ Jellal?” Yukino's voice had climbed considerably in volume.

“Hey, listen, this isn't my drama. I didn't mean to...” Jenny trailed off and backed away. “Whatever.” She disappeared into the crowd over Yukino's shoulder and on the fringe Jellal could see Sorano's eyes zero in on him. Ultear stood at her side slowly shaking her head.

“I can't believe you!” Yukino shouted in a wavering voice. “And I let you have sex with me on my parents boat! _And_ just now in the car! Are you even clean, Jellal? Do you always sneak around with girls at raves?” She was full on screaming at him now and Jellal wanted to fall into a hole and hopefully die.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sorano demanded. She took her sister's elbow and scowled at Jellal. “What did you do?”

“I –”

“He apparently has a harem!” Yukino slurred. “I want to go home.” She jerked free of Sorano's grip and shouldered her way back to the maze of cars. Sorano sighed loudly.

“Why couldn't you just break up with her?” she said, poking her finger into Jellal's chest painfully. “I _warned_ you, Jellal! ” Her expression darkened. “You _ass._ I wanted to at least get laid before we left!”

Sorano seemed to suddenly take notice of the eyes on them. She straightened her dress, spun around, and followed after her sister. Ultear appeared at his side and handed him a beer. He took it and polished off the bottle in seconds.

“Don't say I told you so,” he muttered. Ultear laughed.

“Oh, I wasn't going to. I don't even have to.” Her hand closed around his elbow and she sighed. “Wanna get high in the car and kick up some trouble? It's not like things can get worse.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jellal followed Ultear back to the car and they plowed through two of his bags.

Jenny didn't push him away when he found her again. She didn't ask where his girlfriend had gone. She didn't do anything but pull a condom from his back pocket.

* * *

The drive back into the city was silent. Jellal felt on the brink of a deep sleep. Ultear kept an eye on him but he wished she wouldn't.

“Don't call her, okay? Leave her alone.”

“I wasn't going to. She won't forgive me and I can't blame her,” he muttered, his eyes hopping from one passing light to the next. “I'm almost relieved.”

“I imagine you are. It can't be easy sitting on a time bomb. Why did you do it?”

“Because she made me smile.”

“Jellal –”

“Just don't, okay? I'm tired.”

“Sorano will get over it. I doubt she hates you.”

“No? She looked pretty fucking pissed. I made her sister cry.”

“Yeah, you did. But she also knew you'd fuck it up. Yukino will find someone else and Sorano will come back around.”

“I don't have a lot of friends,” he whispered. “I hope so.” Jellal could _feel_ Ultear swallowing her words. He let her do it. Maybe he'd lost both Yukino _and_ Sorano. And he wasn't sure which was worse. A girlfriend he'd kept for much longer than he deserved, or a friend he'd had since kindergarten.

Ultear dropped him at the gates of _Love and Lucky._ The house was dark. He made a stop in the kitchen for a snack and water bottles. The shape of Acnologia could be seen through the windows having a cigar on the back patio. Jellal couldn't see his features but he could feel his father's glare.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters. I'm so close I can taste it.
> 
> Exciting news! Freyjabee and myself have a new collab! It's a Miraxus and Jerza leaning yarn. We'd love it if you'd check it out! Link below!
> 
>  
> 
> [Lies of a Lost Girl](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11812242)

_June_

* * *

He felt in pieces. All of the ragged strips of tape holding him together were gone. Yukino wouldn't speak to him, Laxus was busy under the hood of his junker, Lucy was caught up in a summer writing class, and Ultear only had eyes for the night. It crossed his mind to hit up Erik but Jellal didn't want to be anywhere near Igneel. The day his parents walked out the front door for their cruise, he felt the loss immediately. Not so much for Acnologia but for his mother. Even though he'd done nothing but disappoint her for the last year, he didn't want her absence.

Jude, as per usual, spent his days in the far wing of the house. Layla surprised him. She put her own breakfast on hold, long after Lucy had gone for the day, to eat with him. To her credit, she _tried_ to draw Jellal out of himself but after the first week he couldn't stand to see the worry and etched into her face every morning. It was almost a relief when she retired to the gardens to tend her beloved lilac bushes.

Once he'd dashed her expectations, Jellal fell into what Ultear called _sloppy._ He emptied out the compartments in Acnologia's books and his days were a whirlwind. Sometimes he'd wash the powder blue convertible until it sparkled. Sometimes he'd dig out his running shoes and just _go._ Sometimes he'd stumble around his room in circles blasting music no one else could hear. One one particular morning he startled Layla in the garden and helped her dig out the rotted sections of root on one of the lilac bushes. She praised his energy level but raised a curious eyebrow at the amount of water he consumed only moments after.

“Just a little dry mouth,” he muttered, grabbing an armful of bottles and a box of protein bars from the pantry.

“Jellal –” her voice pinned his tired feet to the floor. Sometimes, _sometimes_ she sounded just like his mother. “Are you alright?”

Jellal spun around. Layla's hair was wispier than Anna's. Strands of it stuck to her forehead and neck with sweat and soil. She didn't pick at her nails the way his mother sometimes did and she seemed to be looking _at_ him in a way he knew Anna couldn't always manage. For a brief moment he considered dropping everything in his arms and retrieving the black shoebox for her. What would happen if he dumped his little problem out all over the table? Would she tell Jude? Would Jude openly condemn Acnologia? Would his father be disowned? Would Jellal himself be disinherited? Or would anything happen at all? Jude knew about the cocaine money. He _knew._ And he was content to turn a blind eye so long as Igneel kept himself away from _Love and Lucky._

Jellal shook his head but the thoughts didn't clear out. They only spun more.

“I'm fine,” he lied. Layla didn't look away and Jellal couldn't take it. He felt her eyes on his back all the way up the stairs.

* * *

On the last Thursday of June, Jellal panicked. He tried to put off using the last dragon stamped bag in the box but the overwhelming urge to fuck himself over prevailed. Three hours later he was counting off the seconds Ultear took to respond to his text messages.

_'What's wrong with you?'_

_'I'm out.'_

_'Of your mind? I think so. I've been stuck with my mom all day.'_

_'No, I'm out of everything.'_

_'You're not serious.'_

_'As a fucking heart attack.'_

_'Take the pills and sleep it off. I can get you more easy. It's time.'_

_'I don't want pills.'_

_'Too fucking bad. You're a goddamn mess! No sane person plows through what you've done in a month. We've only gone out twice and you're dry?'_

_'Can you help me or not?'_

_'Take the pills. We'll talk tomorrow.'_

Jellal tossed his phone aside and didn't bother to retrieve it from under the bedside table. He didn't _want_ Ultear to be right. He didn't _want_ to ease off. He _wanted_ to see how close to the edge he could get before Acnologia grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and stopped him from ruining his prized property. How far would his father let him fall from a ledge he'd created? Or had Jellal created the ledge?

Jellal's fingers pulled at his hair. The clumps were stiffer than they should be. His head fell backwards against his bed and he stared up at the painted star map trying to remember if he'd showered the day before. His phone vibrated from under the table and he finally reached for it.

_'Take the pills and probably a shower.'_

He switched the phone all the way off before hauling himself to his feet. His skin itched and tingled. A cold, cold shower took only the slightest edge off.

* * *

Ultear meshed perfectly with any season. Summer suited her just as much as winter. Despite the heat, though, her gaze was positively frosty when Jellal slid into the passenger side of her Crown Vic.

“You look like shit,” she muttered, shifting the car into drive.

“The pills didn't help me.”

“I never said they'd do anything but put you to sleep.” She glanced in her blind spot and pulled out onto the road. “That's what you need. _Sleep.”_

“My aunt is watching me.”

“Why?

“I don't know, Ultear,” he snapped. “Maybe because I've been acting like a fucking junkie for the last month.”

“You're crabby.”

“If all you're going to do is bitch at me, then turn around. I'll –”

“You'll _what?”_ she cut him off. “Sit in your room and itch a hole into your skin and die of an infection while your parents are on a cruise?”

“That's dramatic.”

“You're _acting_ dramatic. Get yourself together. I'm trying to help you! How could you plow through such an insane amount of coke in a month?”

“I just –”

“That was _rhetorical!_ You're addicted to it. This has to stop. Let me help you.”

“I just need a little bump. I can quit if I want. Just not cold turkey.”

“That was the point of the pills, Jellal.” Ultear sighed and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She took a hard right and Jellal glanced over in surprise.

“Where are we going?”

“Zancrow. He can get anything including pills.”

“What about the powder? That's what I need.”

“A slap in the face is what you need,” Ultear muttered. “Listen, we'll make a schedule. If you stick to it you should be through the ugly part of withdrawal by the time school starts.”

Jellal's fingers tightened in the loose fabric of the legs of his shorts. His lungs felt flat and empty. The _thought_ of not ever flying on a high ever again stole his breath. He _needed_ the release. Ultear pulled into the cracked driveway and Jellal's eyes snagged on the trails of unkempt grass encroaching on the slabs of concrete. The jangling of her keyring brought him back to the moment.

“Do you have cash?”

“Yeah,” Jellal muttered. He pulled some bills from his pocket but not all of them. Ultear would buy the pills but he had another purchase in mind – one she didn't need to know about.

Zancrow's wild blonde hair had been stuffed into a top knot and he stood puffing his cigarette on the patio. As they approached, he flicked the still-red cherry and butt into a flower pot. The house was different in the day – Jellal could almost believe Zancrow wasn't a drug dealing, party throwing degenerate. The carpet was freshly vacuumed and the kitchen surprisingly clean. Ultear perched primly on the edge of his couch but Jellal fell back against the cushions and ignored the stench of old cigarette smoke.

“What can I get you fine people?” Zancrow asked, propping his sandaled feet on the long coffee table.

“Oxy's,” Ultear said smartly. “Twenty sounds good.”

“That's a lot.”

“It is, but he's quitting the blow and I don't want to come back mid-withdrawal.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don't fuck with me Zancrow, I know you have it.”

“Cash?”

“I want to see them first.”

Zancrow shrugged and hauled himself out of his chair. When he'd cleared the room Jellal exhaled and rolled his eyes.

“You're being rude.”

“Am I?” Ultear said disinterestedly scrolling through whatever was on her phone. “I'm just trying not to get ripped off.”

“Whatever,” Jellal muttered as Zancrow reappeared with a yellow pill bottle. He stood and stretched. “Hey, man, can I use your bathroom?” Zancrow shrugged and pointed vaguely toward the hallway as if Jellal hadn't been in it before.

The bathroom was tiny but, again, Jellal noted the cleanliness. He didn't know why it never occurred to him that Zancrow might actually give a shit about his house when a party wasn't in mid-swing. Jellal switched on the water and cupped his hands beneath the faucet. They shook as he washed his face. He didn't want to lie to Ultear of all people but she didn't _understand._ Quitting wasn't an option. Not right now.

Several minutes later, Jellal left the bathroom behind. He found Zancrow in the kitchen meticulously constructing a sandwich. His eyes appeared almost maroon in the afternoon sunlight streaming from the windows.

“She's out front,” Zancrow said casually. He glanced up again and reached into the small pantry to toss away the squares of parchment that had been between the slices of cheese.

“I need the powder.” Jellal took the remainder of his cash from his pocket and left it on the edge of the counter. Zancrow's eyes flit to the cash but he made no move to leave his sandwich. He arranged slices of tomato and pickle before topping it off with the other half of a bun. “Look –”

“What's your deal, man?” Zancrow asked smoothly. “I've been meaning to ask you but you've always got some chick on your arm.” He filled his mouth with a bite of sandwich and Jellal's eye twitched in annoyance. “Ultear, Lis, and I hear you had a sweet little girlfriend who looked just like her at school. If you're drowning in quality tail like that, why're you fucking up your nose every night? Does the red dragon himself know you're into his stash?”

Jellal stuffed his hands into his pockets and scowled. Zancrow finally laughed and set aside his sandwich.

“I'm just fucking with you.” He reached for the bills and thumbed through them. “I can hook you up but –” Zancrow sighed. “It's not the stuff you're used to and if Ultear finds out, I want no part of it.”

“She won't know. She thinks she's helping me but I'm –” Jellal cut off when Zancrow held up a hand.

“That's your business. Sit tight and don't touch my lunch.” Jellal's stomach rumbled but his skin tingled in anticipation. He _could_ quit. And he _would._ Just not right now.

With a pocket liberated of cash and full of something he held at a much higher value, Jellal left Zancrow to his sandwich and joined Ultear in her car.

“Did you get lost?” she asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“No, I just don't feel great.”

“You'll feel better in a few weeks.” Jellal felt her glance but couldn't return it. “I promise you'll get through this.”

* * *

_July_

* * *

Jellal never touched the pills. He crossed off the days in the spreadsheet Ultear made and shared with him but nothing changed. Every time she asked how he felt, he lied. Lying to Yukino broke his selfish heart but lying to Ultear felt dangerously wrong. Jellal compensated by metering his use. Zancrow's product was inferior and didn't quench his thirst for a high but he didn't care to be seen going back and forth and spending an unholy amount of cash his parents would absolutely notice when they returned. He told himself the meter was a step toward the withdrawal Ultear wanted for him, so it wasn't _too bad_ of a lie. Jellal still didn't know what he'd do when Acnologia came home to an office devoid of product he may or may not have to account for with Igneel. He didn't care about that.

* * *

“Are you excited to start school again?” Lucy asked with the same wistful tone she always had when she pressed him for information about school.

“Not really.”

“Is it because of Yukino? Are you afraid you're going to see her?”

“I'm not afraid of me seeing her,” Jellal said, rolling over in the grass to face Lucy. The sun filtered through the lilac bushes and the glints of blonde made him wish he could look more like her instead of Acnologia. “I'm more afraid of her seeing me.”

“It was that ugly?”

Jellal laughed softly and rolled over all the way to rest on his stomach. “Yeah, it was exactly that ugly.”

“I'm thinking about asking my parents if I can go to school with you next year.”

“I think your dad will say no.”

“He will,” Lucy sighed. “But I'll ask my mom first.”

“Do you think she can convince him?”

“No.” They both laughed but Lucy quieted first. “I want out of here, Jellal.” He felt her eyes on him. “There's too many secrets in this house. I want to be free to meet people and –”

“Have ugly, public breakups?”

“Yes. I want all that. I just want the choice.”

“I bet your dad would let that one tutor of yours take you out.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the earring who thinks he's smooth.”

“Ew, Loki? He's ridiculous.”

“Your mom likes him,” Jellal teased.

“She doesn't like him,” Lucy said dryly. “She's amused by his antics. I wouldn't go out on a date with Loki if he begged.”

“At least you have standards. That's good. Yukino didn't.”

“Jellal,” she countered, reaching over to tidy his hair. “You're not as bad as you think. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours but I can tell it's eating away at you. I'm in this house most of the time. I know there's –”

 _“Lucy!”_ Jude's voice carried across the garden and Lucy groaned.

“I'll see you at dinner, okay?” She left him alone in the shade. Through the gaps in the bushes nearest the mounds of soil he watched Jude usher Lucy back into the house. They'd been interviewing new tutors for the last several days and he knew she hated it. Lucy was incredibly smart and ahead in nearly everything. She could do the work on her own but Jude preferred the pretense of tutors with impressive resumes.

Jellal stayed in the garden until the sun began to dip. The gentle scent of lilac kept his mind from wandering to darker, more bitter things.

* * *

He'd been avoiding his room. The stuff he'd bought off Zancrow was dwindling and the press of his bedroom walls made him want to do reckless things. His parents would be returning in just under a week and Jellal could feel the leash tightening. He wasn't ready to face Acnologia's discovery of empty books and whatever his aunt and uncle might report of his behavior over the last month.

During the day the lilac bushes were calming but at night they were intoxicating. The purple blooms glowed in the moonlight and Jellal enjoyed the way the smoke from his cigarettes sliced through what he imagined was a cloud of scent hanging in the air.

“I thought I might find you here.” Layla's voice wasn't much more than a mutter. Jellal didn't look at her but he could tell she'd taken a seat on one of the stone benches. “My mother wanted to have all of these bushes ripped out. The saplings were a gift from a lover she had when Anna and I were still in primary school.”

“I'm guessing that didn't end well?” Jellal had an impulse to put out his cigarette but Layla had caught him in the act so why bother?

“No,” she said with a quiet laugh. “No, it did not. Children aren't always privy to adult matters, especially of the heart, so I'm sure there was a lot more to it than I remember.” Layla sighed. “I begged her not to destroy the bushes. She only relented when I promised to tend them myself. None of the grounds people would be paid to touch them.”

Jellal tried to imagine younger versions of his aunt and grandmother arguing over lilacs. He smiled at the realization of where Lucy's ability to turn on the tears came from.

“I read a whole pile of books about gardening and proper care of plants. We almost lost them one year. I think maybe Anna and mother both thought me a fanatic but it wasn't about the plants, Jellal.” Her voice was even softer now and it made the hair on his arms stand up. “I wanted to prove to myself I'd made the right decision. I wanted to show mother I could finish something I started. I was her favorite, did you know that?”

“I didn't,” he murmured. He couldn't recall his grandmother ever playing favorites.

“It's not right for a parent to have favorites but she did. I think even if Anna had prostrated herself, mother still would've ripped all the bushes out by the roots. She –” Layla paused and the air felt thicker in his lungs. “She was a hard woman to please even for me.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because, Jellal, you're the only nephew I will ever have. And I know...” she trailed off and he half wondered if she'd ever finish. The silence stretched. “I know what it's like to be in the shadow of something so thick and so _imposing_ that it chokes you. And I want _you_ to know that you come from sturdy stock.”

“You can't save me like the lilacs, Aunt Layla,” he whispered.

“You're right, I can't. There's things in this house – this _family_ – that can rot the roots right out from under you. Some of them you've found already, some aren't so obvious.” The air shifted and he could hear the grass crush under her feet. “Learn to save what's worth saving, Jellal.”

Cold ash crumpled over his fingers and Jellal realized he'd been filling his lungs with lilac scented air long after the cigarette had died.

* * *

The party was meant to be a final blast before his parents returned and school started again. He arrived with Ultear and a pocket full of cash but by the time morning approached he was empty in every sense of the word. Every part of the night had taken a piece of him. Every smile, every touch, and breath of hot air on his neck. He couldn't even tell the difference between the various brands of perfume left on his clothing. Every layer of sweat and press of naked skin put another wall between him and the last bit of, however complicated, peace he'd found with Yukino. He didn't even want to think of getting names – and none of the girls he'd brushed against had bothered with his either. Nameless and markless. It was exactly what he'd been looking for.

Officer Milkovich's grip on his arm was the only thing that broke through the haze of numbness. Her glare _almost_ hurt him. When Jude Heartfilia marched into the police station Jellal kept his eyes on the linoleum floor. His uncle didn't say a word and Jellal wanted to laugh. The man could brood for weeks and still not come anywhere near the kind of silent rage Acnologia could exude at any given moment. It wasn't until they pulled into the half-moon driveway that the silence was broken.

“You are not to leave the house until your parents return,” Jude hissed. “This kind of bullshit is _exactly_ why –” he stopped short and bit his tongue. “Get up stairs and wash the stench off you. I don't want Lucy to see it.”

Jellal didn't even bother with a sigh. He stepped from the car and rolled his eyes. Despite the fact that Jude simply wasn't capable of the silent treatment Acnologia had conditioned him to expect, Jellal was disappointed the man had cut himself off so quickly. When would the chance to tear back the curtains on the secrets and lies come? When would he have the opportunity to scream until his lungs were bloody? Even Layla hadn't offered him anything other than a pep talk.

He didn't want a pep talk. He wanted a blaze.

* * *

_August_

* * *

Anna finally confiscated the keys to his car. It was a relief. Jellal spent the remainder of his summer on lockdown with only a small stash of trashy blow and a building resentment toward the pills he still hadn't touched.

“Jellal?” the muffled voice of his mother came from the other side of his bedroom door. When he didn't answer she knocked softly before peeking inside. “Are you decent?”

“I don't think decent is a thing I'll ever be,” he said under his breath. Anna entered the room and shut the door behind her. Whether she'd heard his words or not, she joined him on the bed.

“I brought you something.” Anna sighed when he didn't move from his stomach. “Maybe I'm too sentimental for my own good but I wanted to make sure you had what you wanted before school starts. Consider it a birthday present even though I think this year hasn't been your best.”

Jellal finally rolled over and sat up. He couldn't be angry or disappointed in his mother. She pushed the messenger bag with its tags still attached into his lap.

“Mom –”

“Please don't, Jellal,” she said in a firm whisper. “I have half a mind to make you carry every heavy book assigned to you. But I just can't do it.” Anna suddenly stood and left him alone. The click of the door shutting behind her made his face burn with frustration. _Why_ couldn't he just surgically strike at his father? Why did his mother always end up getting hurt too?

Jellal lifted the bag and noted it was far too heavy than it should be. He unzipped the main compartment and found the brand new tablet in its box inside. Tears of frustration came without his bidding or permission.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last real chapter. There will be a brief epilogue but this is the end, folks. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thank you so much to tumblr user [marya-nikolaevna](http://marya-nikolaevna.tumblr.com/) for her Spanish translations!

_October_

* * *

Acnologia never said a word about the missing product. The changes at home were obvious, though. He drove Jellal to school every single morning in his town car and returned in the afternoon to escort Jellal home. The powder blue convertible stood unused in the garage, even after his sixteenth birthday. Every evening Acnologia would look over Jellal's school work and confiscate his tablet before bed. Jellal knew his father had an open line of communication with all of his teachers, as well. Acnologia didn't give him one single inch of space. All of this in total silence. Jellal wondered if his mother would eventually chew a hole through her bottom lip.

The one concession Acnologia allowed was Jellal's phone and this was only after it had been taken from him for two whole days without notice or discussion. Jellal half wondered if Acnologia had found someone to dismantle it and install some kind of tracking device. The logistics and feasiblity of such a thing was beyond him. He handed over a wad of cash to Erik one day and had a brand new burner phone with a stack of minute cards in his pocket before Acnologia picked him up from school.

Jellal finally began to conceptualize how far his father's tentacles reached and how tightly they grasped him when Zancrow stopped responding to texts. Ultear wasn't an option. Jellal felt cornered but refused to spend the holiday alone in his bedroom, _sober._ His mind began to wander to parts of the city previously off limits. The jarring knock at his bedroom door could've only come from his father.

“What?” Jellal called in a long, annoyed drawl. He didn't move from his bed but the door opened anyway. Acnologia invited himself in and stood at the foot of Jellal's bed. His hands were hidden in his pockets and his stance was casual – but his glare was not.

“Your mother and I are going out for the evening,” he said emotionlessly. “Your uncle and aunt and Lucy are joining us.”

“So?”

“The invitation is open,” Acnologia deadpanned.

“I think I'll take a hard pass.” Jellal crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his arms behind his head.

“This behavior is problematic and tiresome,” Acnologia stated. “We will discuss it later.” He turned to leave.

“You mean you'll talk at me later? Got it.”

“No,” his father said in the same smooth texture. “I mean we will discuss it.”

“I'm sure,” Jellal snapped. Acnologia spun back around and Jellal struggled not to give into the smirk that pricked at the corners of his mouth. The rage on his father's face was oh, so satisfying.

“Do you think your choices happen in a vacuum?” Acnologia demanded. “Your blood is better than this. _My_ blood is better than this.”

Jellal suddenly sat up in the bed and all his satisfaction fizzled. “Do _you_ think _your_ choices happen in a vaccum?”

“If it is your strategy to simply parrot my own words back to me –”

 _“Everything you do affects me!”_ Jellal roared. “And I don't want any of it.”

“You were born to take it,” Acnologia leveled. “You are my son. You are marked with our family name and you _will_ stop this rebellion and accept your position.” He charged back across the room and stood at the very edge of Jellal's bed. His eyes were the same deep forest green as Jellal's. His cheekbones and chin were all the very fucking same – and he hated the resemblence. “You don't have a choice.”

“I _always_ have a choice,” Jellal whispered.

“I've seen the way you make your choices, Jellal,” Acnologia said in a low voice that came from a place deep in his chest. “Is death what you seek? Do you think that one day you will pull the trigger on the dragon you chase and defeat it?”

“Depends on the dragon,” Jellal countered. Acnologia betrayed nothing. He took a step back and his hands returned to his pockets. Any expression that had worked its way into his features smoothed.

“You are a child. One day you will understand, _hijo mio._ _Y_ _entonces te comportarás._ _”_

“I will never be what you want,” Jellal said with the last of his steam. Acnologia didn't respond. He spun on his heel and left Jellal's bedroom door standing wide open.

* * *

The pulse of the empty house rang in Jellal's ears and all the sternly worded warnings against dabbling in _Fairy Tail_ business issued by Ultear were left under his bed for safe keeping. He didn't even try to locate his confiscated car keys nor did he lock the front door behind him when he walked away from _Love and Lucky._

Jellal wasn't familiar with city bus routes but that was easily remedied. The phone he suspected his father tracked had been left behind and Jellal slid the burner back into his pocket when he fell into a plastic bench on bus number five-forty-one. Halloween came with a brisk drop in temperature and Jellal was grateful for the hood of his jacket. It hid not only the Fernandes mark on his face but kept his ears from bearing the full brunt of the autumn late-night wind. He told himself this wasn't an all night outing – he'd simply spend the cash in his pocket and head back home. Uptown wasn't a place he normally spent time but he knew were the dark corners were. Jellal found the trouble he was looking for in a girl with glossy brown curls and a smirk that smelled like gin.

“You look like you're on a mission,” she said pushing herself off a shadowed wall behind a pub and falling into step beside him.

“Do I?” He glanced over at her and she laughed.

“I can spot a guy like you a mile away.” She offered him a cigarette and Jellal accepted it. “Young and stupid with money to burn.” Jellal stopped walking and sucked deeply on the cigarette. Her grin wasn't malicious, just knowing.

“You do this a lot?” he asked.

“What?”

“Approach random guys on the street and tell them about themselves? Are you going to offer me a tarot spread next? Or maybe read my palm?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said with another laugh. “I don't need to do any of that with you.”

“No?”

“Nope.” The girl flicked the butt of her cigarette with her thumb and tossed her curls over her shoulder. “You're looking for a fix.” She shrugged. “It's cool, we all have things we want that are harder to get than we think they should be.”

“You were right about the cash.” The girl tossed her spent cigarette into the gutter and stepped into him. She adjusted the hood on his head and grinned.

“Yeah?”

“I don't have condoms,” he said dryly, trying to make a point. She shook her head with a grin.

“I don't do guys, hon, but I can help you with your itch.” She took his hand and pulled him with her across the street and into what smelled very much like a bakery and sandwich shop. The shop was small and mostly empty except for a woman kneeding large balls of dough. At a booth furthest from the door was a young man with copper colored hair in a green coat lined with fur. A gold earring glinted in his ear lobe and Jellal disliked his smile.

“You've got to stop dragging in strays, Cana,” he muttered, not even glancing up from his game of solitaire.

“You should be thanking me,” she said with the same bravado as she'd had in the street. “Now my dad'll get off your ass.”

Cana released Jellal and pointed to the booth. He took a seat, slid in against the wall and wished to god Zancrow hadn't've dropped off the face of the planet. Digging up a score without Ultear didn't suit him. The young man in the green jacket gathered his playing cards into a stack and finally leaned back against the booth bench to eye Jellal – who only scowled.

“What's your poison, kid?”

“White powder,” Jellal muttered. “Fine.”

“Hm.”

Beside him, Cana bristled. “Don't be coy, Loke. He's harmless and can pay.”

“Harmless?” Loke's eyes fixed on Jellal's tattoo for a long moment before he finally sighed. “White powder'll cost you. It doesn't come easy. Everything's hot these days.”

“Like she said, I've got cash.” Jellal crossed his arms over his chest. His leg wanted to bounce but he stuffed it away.

“How do I know you aren't a cop?” Loke's ringed fingers shuffled his cards mindlessly but his eyes were sharp. Jellal pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and tossed them into the bow of moving cards.

“You don't, I guess. Sell me the stuff or I'll walk out and take my money back.”

Loke poked at the bills with a card before collecting them in his pocket. He slid out of the booth and disappeared into the bowels of the bakery.

“You're bold,” Cana said from beside him, pulling a flask from her pocket. “I like it.” She passed him another cigarette. “You looking to party with your purchase?”

“You don't do guys, remember?”

“Not, me, no,” she said with a grin. “But I've got friends. I can take you someplace fun.”

“Define fun.”

“There's a garage not far from here.”

“A garage? Wow, sign me the fuck up,” Jellal said leaning against the wall. Cana's smile didn't dim at all.

“You're charming. I bet you're a hit with the ladies.”

Loke reappeared and took a seat across from them once again. He held two baggies against his chest before sliding them into an envelope and across the table. Jellal didn't need to look closer to determine two things. One, he was absolutely getting ripped off. And two? The product was visibly superior to Zancrow's trash so he decided not to mind.

“Come back before the weekend and I'll have more,” Loke drawled, returning to his card play.

“I'll think about it,” Jellal muttered, folding the envelope into fourths and standing. “Depends on how my night plays out.”

Loke laughed softly and began to lay out a new game of solitaire. “You've got Cana with you. Have a good one.”

* * *

Against his better judgement – whatever _that_ actually was – Jellal took Cana up on the garage. As it turned out, by _garage_ she meant a mechanic's garage. The curb and driveway were cluttered by a diverse population of junkers and things a whole lot sparklier. Cana wove between the cars and approached the actual garage. Jellal followed her lead and ducked under the door that hung half closed.

The music was different than anything he'd heard while with Ultear. This was the music his father would blare at top volume when they took the family yacht out in the bay. He recognized the words and language but he wasn't fluent enough to understand the lyrics completely. Cana led him through the small crowd to a smaller, quieter room he guessed was an out of use office.

“If you're looking to bump in private, this is as good as it gets,” Cana said twirling around the room with her arms wide. The empty office was the exact opposite as the rest of the garage.

“You want a cut?”

“Nah.” she fell into one of the cheap looking couches that lined the back wall. “I don't fish off the company dock. I prefer to drink my life away.” Cana's flask made a second appearance and he thought he could smell the gin from his position near the door.

Jellal shrugged and pulled the envelope Loke had given him from his pocket. He took a seat in the old and creaking office chair and shook the baggies out onto the surface of the desk. The stamp was bright blue and he recognized it as _Fairy Tail's_. From his pocket he also pulled a blade wrapped in cardstock. This powder wasn't quite as fine as the red orobouros dragon but it was still far above anything he'd bought off Zancrow. Jellal felt Cana's eyes on him as he began to dig through the desk drawers for a pen to dismantle.

“What's it like?” she asked in a soft but sloppy voice.

“What's what like?” he murmured, inspecting a plastic Bic.

“Scrambling. You come here into my backyard looking for something you obviously can't get anywhere else and follow a total stranger only to dig out a nasty old pen so you can snort a line off a dirty desk. I want to know what that's like.”

Jellal pulled the ink cartridge out and set it aside. “If you think this is the worst surface I've snorted from, I have some news for you.”

“Boys are so gross,” she said with a smirk.

“To answer your question, though, I don't recommend any of it.”

“A vice is never recommended,” Cana said with a long sigh.

“And yet?” Jellal grinned up at her before leaning over his neatly separated lines.

“And yet here we are.”

Her words got lost in the swirl of his head. Jellal couldn't decide who'd ripped him off more. Zamcrow with his dirty blow, or Loke with his stingily filled baggies. He also didn't quiet care. Cana suddenly stood and dragged her finger over the remaining dust on the desk. She popped it in her mouth and her smile widened like a cheshire cat's.

“Come with me,” she said, grabbing his hand. “We'll find a date.”

“I don't want a date,” Jellal said, pushing thoughts of Cana and another girl – preferably one with silver hair – from his mind.

“I think you do.”

The music in the garage hadn't dimmed or swelled. The heavy pound of the beat mixed with the flow of words dizzied him. Jellal didn't catch the name of the girl with the wicked grin and short golden hair. Her fingernails were sharp but he never felt them. Her lips tasted of something both bitter and sweet. Whatever she'd taken slowed his merry-go-round. She and Cana left him on the horrible office couch with his pants still around his ankles and the hood of his jacket still covering his ears. He thought maybe it was the hood that dulled the sound of the voice yelling at him – he was wrong. It was the drugs.

 _“How stupid are you?!”_ The blonde hair confused him. Only a moment ago the voice had been more feminine. Hadn't it? _“Fuck!”_

A pair of hands grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him to his feet.

“Pull your pants up, Fernandes,” a voice that sounded way too much like Laxus's growled. “How did you even get here?”

Jellal stumbled over his own feet when Laxus released him but managed to get his pants back up. His head still swam and his body struggled to both race and fall on it's face. He didn't care for the experience.

“Bus,” he croaked out. His throat was dryer than sand. “I took the bus.”

“The _bus?”_ When Jellal finally glanced up, Laxus's face was one of naked incredulity. “What the _fuck –_ you know what? Never mind. I don't want to know.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“Ya think?” Laxus snapped. “You _can't_ be here you stupid – dumbass! _Jesus,_ if someone in the know saw you?”

Jellal sighed and fell backwards onto the unforgiving couch. “Oh, shut the hell up. At least I don't have a dragon on me so new it's still pink.”

Laxus's face darkened. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

“No,” Jellal whispered, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I don't know what I'm thinking. I shouldn't have come here. Cana –”

 _“Cana_ saw you?”

“Yeah, she found me on the street and took me to some guy in a green coat –”

“She took you to _Loke?”_ Laxus seemed to be stuck in a state of horrified disbelief. “Okay, you gotta get out of here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jellal stood again and wobbled on his feet. What the _fuck_ had he taken? He headed for the door but Laxus grabbed his arm.

“No, you can't go out that way. You'll be seen and with me and I fucking _hope_ you know why that's bad.”

“Right,” Jellal breathed. Laxus pointed to a door Jellal had previously assumed to be a bathroom. “Take that and then a left. You'll be out behind the garage. There's a bus stop two blocks east. Get the hell out of uptown, Fernandes, before someone sees you here.”

Jellal jerked his arm out of Laxus's grip. “Like who? It's the middle of the night.”

“Like Cana's old man.”

“So?”

“You really don't know?” Laxus shook his head slowly. “Gildarts Clive.”

“No shit?” Jellal's heart skipped a painful, painful beat. _“Fuck.”_

“Yeah,” Laxus agreed. Jellal turned toward the door and searched his pockets for remaining cash. He supposed he was lucky Cana and her blonde friend hadn't taken his bus fare. “Fernandes,” Laxus called in a lower voice. “You can't buy _Fairy Tail_ stuff. You just... can't.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Do you really fucking know that? I'm starting to wonder if you need some sense beat into you.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Listen, I'm not your damn therapist or whatever but I'm telling you to knock this shit off. Get you some rehab or some steps or whatever they call it, but you're going to drown in a pool your dug for yourself. I can't –” Laxus paused and Jellal felt a very real pang of regret. “I can't help you with this.”

Jellal's hands balled into fists and he stuffed them into his jacket pockets. “Yeah, I know.”

* * *

When he returned home, the house was still just as silent as it had been when he'd left. Jellal made a stop in the kitchen where he found his father standing at the kitchen counter with his laptop. Acnologia didn't say a word but Jellal felt his eyes slicing him apart.

* * *

_December_

* * *

“– A liability!” Jude's voice was hushed but unmistakable. Jellal paused on the bottom step, leaned against the wall, and folded his arms over his chest.

“You've only just realized?” Acnologia hissed. “I have been carrying this family for _years._ And now you –”

“It was only ever temporary!” Jellal could practically feel his Uncle Jude's forhead vein pulsing. “Now it's a liability.” His voice lowered. “And you _know_ why!”

“Do not put this on me.” Acnologia matched Jude's tone. “It has always been _your_ failings that forced my hand. Do you think I want my wife's name to be dragged through the mud? My son's?”

 _“You_ and your _son_ are not Heartfilias!” Jude snapped back. “You made sure we _all_ knew that when you carved up his face!”

“Heartfilia nepotism has spoiled this house.” Jellal recognized Acnologia's rage. “I have saved us all from the gutters. This is _foolishness!”_

“Outside investors aren't foolishness,” Jude insisted.

“They are a pollution.”

“More than the fucking drugs?” Jude's voice became a sharp whisper and Jellal inched closer to the corner. “More of a pollution than your boy skulking around town snorting whatever he can find and fu–”

 _“Stop.”_ Acnologia was silent for a full beat. “This is pointless. I told you I will handle my own.”

“You're doing a goddamn fine job of it.”

“I do not lecture you on how you lock away your daughter, do I? Keep Jellal's name from your mouth.”

“You're right,” Jude finally huffed. “This is pointless. Tell Igneel we're done.”

“This is not your decision to make, _Lord Heartfilia.”_ Acnologia's voice was sharp as knives. Jellal wanted to bolt but couldn't make himself do it. “You cannot open _Love and Lucky_ without my signature.”

“You'd be surprised what I can do when you're indisposed.” Jude's words made Jellal's skin feel cold and clammy. What did he mean _indisposed?_

“You would never dare.”

“Stop swimming against the flow, Acnologia,” Jude said haughtily. “I will relaunch _Love and Lucky_ with or without you.”

Jellal spun around and took the stairs back up to his bedroom two at a time. Jude's words stuck in the back of his throat like thorns. For all Acnologia's shady dealings and demands of of him, Jude was not one inch better. Between the two of them, they'd left _Love and Lucky_ on teetering stilts. Besides all that, Jellal could still hear what had been said about him with perfect clarity. He felt caught between _liability_ and _Prince Fernandes._

He wanted neither.

* * *

_January_

* * *

The powder blue convertible idled a block away from the bakery. Jellal's eyes were caught on the crust of snow dirtying the curbs. A cloud of exhaust billowed around the car as he waited for Cana. Even though the top layer of snow was sparkling in the moonlight, he knew beneath was nothing but dirt.

“You're a sullen boy,” the blonde, Dimaria, he'd learned, said from the backseat.

“The world is sullen. I only match it.” Her laugh was something sharp. Jellal wasn't sure if he liked it or not. The sound of it scraped over his neck.

“Poetic, too. Have you ever read Byron? I bet you'd like him.”

Jellal snorted. _Lord_ Byron. His father's words echoed in his ears the same way they'd been echoing for weeks. _Lord Heartfilia._ Heartfilia. A thing he could never be. It was fine. Maybe he'd just never go back and see what he could make of being no one.

The passenger door opened with a gust of frigid air and Cana slid into the front seat. “Let's roll,” she said with a grin Jellal both hated and looked forward to.

* * *

Uptown was a mix of commercial, and industrial with a sprinkle of residential. The house wasn't much different than Zancrow's, just older. Dirtier. Jellal didn't care. He'd been bouncing from one house just like this one to the next over the past three days and they were all starting to look the same.

Cana never touched him – she hadn't been playing coy when she told him she didn't do guys – so when her hand closed around his wrist and her lips brushed his ear, Jellal jumped.

“Are you feling adventurous?” she whispered. Dimaria hung off his arm and rested her chin on his shoulder. Jellal's head was already on a train to no man's land and all he could do was nod. The couple in the corner eyed him savagely. He didn't think anyone's hair should be that shade of green but that was neither here nor there. She was tall and disinterested. Her partner was _too_ interested.

Jellal nodded. He couldn't quite remember how it happened but Dimaria's hands were everywhere. His arm felt pinched. The needle didn't gleam as much as he thought it should. When she kissed him the world lifted off.

_And the music swelled._

* * *

_A return._

* * *

Ultear's bedroom was still dark. Her sheets clung to his cold, sweating skin. Jellal was tired. He stumbled from her bed and downed the water she'd left out. It wasn't enough. Even after he'd showered, Jellal still felt parched.

“Was it enough?” the woman's voice at the end of the hall startled him. “Have you had your fill of self destruction?” Jellal leaned into the wall and clutched at the towel around his waist. Officer Milkovich's eyes were unrelenting. “Your mother called me. I don't know if I have the heart to return you to her in this condition.”

“My mother?”

“You've been reported missing, Jellal. According to your mother, it's been days. Is this any way to ring in the new year?”

Jellal sucked in a deep breath and made his way back into Ultear's bedroom. He didn't want to wear his dirty clothes from before but he didn't have much of a choice. Officer Milkovich followed him and snatched the soiled clothing away from him with a sigh.

“My ex's clothes won't fit you but I can't let you wear these.” She disappeared and returned with a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt.

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me. Just get dressed and get back in bed. I don't know what my daughter left you with to knock out your headache but take it. I'll escort you home when my shift is over.” She inspected his face and pursed her lips. “Hopefully those bags under your eyes won't be so alarming by then.”

* * *

The first thing Jellal did was burn the black shoebox. The smoke from the small fire mingled in his lungs with the smoke from his cigarette. He thought it fitting. _Poetic_ even.


	8. Chapter 8

_Epilogue_

* * *

He'd never been a smoker but the breath from his lungs hung in the cold air all the same. It bothered him. He didn't care for smoke. Not the smell. Not the taste. Not its malignant nature that seeped into anything and everything regardless of a person's efforts to mask it. Nothing could do that. He would know. For the first thirteen years of his life he'd tried to hide the scent of tobacco and the way it permeated the air in a home to the point of taste. He could smell it a mile away. Sometimes he wondered if his own son thought he was fooling anyone. An open window couldn't disperse the smell of a cigarette any more than the cherry tobacco in a pipe could distort the flavor into something palatable.

Acnologia Fernandes had shelves and shelves of boxes in his mind that never touched. Cigarettes were completely avoidable. Cocaine? Trashy maybe but a means to an end. He'd seen enough addicts in his time lowering himself into Igneel's gutters. The dip was controllable. Nothing moved an inch without his knowledge. He loved the control. He _needed_ it. Jellal was _out_ of control. Out of hand. Out of pocket. Jellal made him feel like every step he'd taken since leaving his father's decrepit and dying body behind in their hovel of a house – never a _home_ – had been for nothing. Jellal could be brought to heel, though. Acnologia was sure of it.

His shoes crunched in the late snows of spring. The dusting of white would be gone by afternoon next but he enjoyed the gleam. Soon it would be coated in ash.

He told himself he was doing this for his family. For Anna. For Jellal. Even for Lucy. Acnologia remembered well every pinched smile of his wife while her mother still lived. Every seemingly careless slight. Every shrug of Layla's shoulders that said, _I love you but not enough to take your side._ Anna deserved better. So he'd tried to fortify her with something new. Something stronger. If she couldn't be the Heartfilia her mother demanded, she'd be a Fernandes. Jellal would be a Fernandes too. The new family he built for her would eclipse the old one. She would sit elevated as Jude and Layla begged for her attentions the way Anna groveled for her mother's.

Jude ruined everything, though. After the matriarch's death he'd taken too many right turns and steered _Love and Lucky_ aground. Acnologia thought he hated Jude more than he'd ever hated his father. But he did the rough work. He skulked in the shadows of Magnolia. He'd accepted a partnership with a man who gazed at Anna every Christmas with a wistfulness that told Acnologia everything he needed to know about Igneel. In truth, he understood. Loving Anna was a thing he could not have understood _more._ He did these things with the promise that one day he'd be the pillars on which _Love and Lucky_ towered. But like most promises, these were hollow and shattered easily.

 _Love and Lucky_ was dying. Acnologia needed to cut out the cancer. He needed to burn it away.

The explosion hurt in his ears but he didn't inch a single step back. He watched the fire consume the theater and decided this smoke he could inhale. By the time sirens choked out the quiet of the night and police lights reflected off the now blackened crust of snow, Acnologia was gone.


End file.
